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It had been a hard week at work, I had just pulled a six-day run with a couple of 12-hour shifts thrown in. We were having an audit and being the only person in my department, I was feeling pretty stressed. I had only four hours of sleep the night before because I had to be in the store at 5:00 am. So far the morning had gone smoothly and then the call came. 

Mark rarely called me at work, but since I had left in the middle of the night with very little sleep, I figured he was checking to make sure I had made it okay. He started the conversation in the usual way with pleasantries and listening to me go on about how things had gone so far. When I asked how his morning was going, he hesitated. Then he told me about Ally. 

There are some animals you have a special bond with, and Ally was one of the chickens I had become very attached to. When I asked what had happened, he said that there was an accident, he had found her in the coop bleeding and injured. He had not found blood on anyone else so he thought she had somehow landed wrong and broken her wing.

He explained how he had brought her to the house and called the vet. Our vet wasn't working so he was given to a vet tech to discuss a plan of action. The first thing the tech said was "You can drown her". My stunned husband stood petting Ally. "Or you could bring her in and we could euthanize her." Mark interrupted with "Could I take her to a dark room and just keep her comfortable and let nature take it's course?" "Yes," said the tech, "that's a really good idea." While he was petting her, Ally had quietly died. 

The reason he was calling me was to decide what to do with the body. Our options were cremation or a new burial plan. There was no way she would be thrown away. Ally's body was wrapped in plastic and she was put in the freezer. Later we will bury her in an locked metal box on the mountain over looking the valley.

I couldn't help it, the words "you could drown her" swirled through my brain. The truth is that no one would give this advice if he were calling about a cat or dog, but a chicken is a different story.  Pictures of Ally clouded my mind: Ally jumping for grapes, Ally joyously racing to the gate at super time, Ally looking at her purple wrapped feet admiringly (when she had foot sores after first arriving here). Before I knew it, I was crying. Not just the "I am really sad my chicken died" kind of crying, but the uncontrollable I need a box of tissue and a drink kind of crying. I could not get my composure back. I had to track down my boss and ask for a time out.

The audit went well. I realized that even if it went badly, there was nothing that could be worse then losing one of your best friends, even if she was "just" a sweet hen. So to all of us who take work too seriously, take some time to jump, race and admire the little things because that is what really counts and if you have the opportunity to make friends with a chicken.

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Ally had to have her feet wrapped for bumblefoot when she first arrived here.

Ally's serenity was the inspiration for our logo.

Ally and her girlfriends.