We used to have 35 free range chickens. They were friendly pets who happened to provide eggs. We named them, cuddled them, carried them around, and, in general, loved them.
We tried to coop them at night to protect them, but our happy chickens preferred sleeping in trees. We live on a farm, so, over time, the fox, neighbor cats and dogs, weasels, and other predators taught us lots of lessons on the circle of life.
Next thing we knew, we only had one chicken left…
Buffy was lonely in the coop by herself, so she moved in with the sheep. When the sheep free range, so does she:
The sheep shed is at the top of our driveway and the first thing we see when we drive in. Every day we expected to find feathers and be a chicken-less farm. Instead, every day there was Buffy, riding around on a sheep’s back, and the boys would exclaim: “Hey, she’s not dead yet!”
Beautiful Buffy was renamed Not Dead Yet. When the 35 new chicks join her this spring, we may have to change her name back to Buffy.