Fresh on the heels of losing little Suky Mae last August, we've now had to say goodbye to our beloved George. She was one of our first four chicks ever, and as we thought she was a boy Griffin named her George. Much to our surprise she turned out to be a little girl (so much for our chick sexing skills back then!) and feeling bad that such a sweet girl was saddled with a rather ugly name, we tacked the uber-feminine first name of Emmaline onto it, but by then George had stuck and George she remained. She loved to sun on the lawn with Griffin in the summer, often laying on his chest with her tummy and legs in the air catching the summer warmth (see "Georgie Girl" August 18, 2006), she adored cheetos and french vanilla ice cream and she was everybody's friend. No one escaped her charm and she never failed to rush right over to any human she saw as she assumed they all had something they were simply dying to feed her, and if it was something very un-chicken-like and not particularly healthy, all the better to her!
While we're sad that she's gone from our lives, it's heartening to know she lived a very long life for a chicken who had to endure some pretty harsh winters here in New England and which take their toll on the smaller creatures, like bantam poultry. She was loved beyond words and she was lucky enough to go peacefully in her sleep as she was alive and kicking at bedtime, but was found the following morning curled in her nest, exactly as she slept.
She was buried in our beautiful field garden that she loved to forage in, beneath the bright red bee balm, and facing towards the west. She will always be with us, both in our hearts and in our minds. Rest in peace Georgie Girl and one day we'll meet again in the great beyond. Save a place for the rest of us yet to come, will you?