Well, in addition to killing a hen today, I was reminded that, hey, it's not all about me. And, by the way, I could pause and listen every now and again.
Actual g-chat conversation with someone I am close to from earlier today:
Her: hime: hii just killed a henew
wasn't that a nice greeting?
Her: yikes, why, how?me: her intestines were sitting next to her in the coop--figured I should put her out of her misery. Used an ax
her: oh my godthat is horriblehow does that even happen?
me: it was the one with the weird featherless bulge beneath her. Probably was a hernia or something that bursther: ohhhhhhhhyuck
me: she didn't ever seem to be in pain about it but today she washer: where is (Biscuit) and (Mr. H) when this was going down?
me: (Mr. H) running errands--(Biscuit) asleep
her: oh jesus
me: wanted to do it before (Biscuit) got up
her: probably a good idea
::let's just pause and notice that she initiated this conversation and it's taken me what, 15 lines to ask how she's doing. Nice!::
me: so how was (recent vacation)?Her: well just to let you know, (long time boyfriend) and i broke up last night, i mean just to add more sad stories!
(vacation) was fun, until the break up
me: Whoa! sorry to distract you with dead chickens. Call me
This "conversation" in addition to the phone conversation I had with another close friend. Paraphrased:
Me: Hi, I know you're at work, do you have a minute?
Me: I just killed a hen. Oh my gosh. She didn't die the first time. It took two tries. Oh my gosh. Ack. Gross. Body still in the yard. Ack.
Her: Laughing (which doesn't sound like it but was a totally appropriate response). Whoa, are you okay. Are you going to bury her? What are you going to tell Biscuit? Oh, do you need to get that other phone that's ringing?
Me: Oh, I better get that. Sorry, bye!
Many hours later, I call back to report that I'm recovered from the euthanasia experience
Friend's husband: Hi
Me: Hi, just wanted to let friend know I'm okay.
FH: Yeah, sorry you had to deal with that. My dad had to do the same to one of his hens last week.
Me: Oh, bummer (feeling significantly less special)
FH: and did friend mention about our dog?
Me: Oh no, what?
FH: we had to put her to sleep while you were on vacation (note: this is their very old and very beloved dog with whom their children have grown up)
Me: Whoa, I'm so sorry (and a total jerk).
So, there you go. I am a jerk. And, also, I killed a hen today. With a sharp implement that wasn't actually an axe. After the broomstick method I read about failed to kill the hen but scared her and caused much horrible flopping about. Yeah, it was unpleasant. But, for her, I am 100% certain this was better than waiting to die in the very sad condition she was in.
Let's close this sad chapter with another paraphrased conversation. We have either a very insensitive or very practical minded child.
Me: Biscuit, I have some sad news
Biscuit: Can I go swimming after your exercise class?
Me: Yes, but I have some sad news.
Me: Snickett died today. She was very sick and she died.
Biscuit: Where was she sick?
Me: Um, in the coop.
Biscuit: Where did she die?
Me: Um, in the yard (100% truth I'll have you notice. I just left out the bit about how she died exactly)
::several minutes later, not sure how it came up::
Biscuit: Where is Snickett now?
Me: (oh no, the truth is not good) Um, in the trash can.
Biscuit: Which trash can?
Me: (what the heck with all the location questions, kid?) the big green one outside
Biscuit: What did you use to pick her up to put her in the trash can?
Me: (seriously, kid? seriously?) Um, a bag
Biscuit: Oh, I thought you would use a shovel so you wouldn't waste a bag
Me: (Shovel, genius idea. Should have thought of that. Wait, waste a bag. Poor hen wasn't even worth a bag?) Well, it's okay
Biscuit: If you left her in the yard other animals could have eaten her (no doubt she was thinking of the squirrel head discovered in the yard, mostly eaten, a few weeks ago)
And I won't even get into the later discussion about how friend's dog would have to be buried because she would be too big to fit into the green trash can. Not to mention, the dog was a beloved pet. And then she said she would miss Snickett.
Thus concludes the run down of today's death and destruction. I am now convinced all the hens are on death's door although none are showing actual signs of dying. It's delightful around here.