Nestled in a thick layer of straw in the corner of the chicken run you’ll find a chicken with bright gold feathers lying still; unnaturally still. If you look close enough you can see her densely feathered back rise and fall as she takes her steady breaths. She opens her eyes, but only wide enough to catch a tiny glimpse of me before they close again. It’s been three days since she has had anything to eat and drink. My heart hurts, and the waiting is difficult. Goldie is her name. My family names all of our chickens after flowers, and Goldie was named after the summer to fall-blooming perennial, goldenrod or Solidago. The bright yellow flowers on the goldenrod plant provide large amounts of nectar and pollen for butterflies, bees, and other insects. It’s a happy plant, so we felt it would be the perfect name for one of our friendliest chickens. Goldie brings us happiness. As Goldie grew, we found that her name was perfect in more ways than one: never leaving my side as I worked in my perennial gardens, following me up and down the rows cleaning the worms up behind me as I tilled up a new garden area (with all the other chickens running terrified from the loud machine). I’ll never forget watching Goldie run as fast as she could – half running and half flying – as soon as I carried a shovel into her view. When I proceeded to dig, Goldie would jump on top of the mound of dirt that had not yet left the shovel and scratch at the pile for any traces of insects or worms. I’m still convinced that she thought she was doing the digging. I’m going to miss the comfort of my constant companion out in the gardens. Goldie started laying shell-less eggs this past year. Her eggs contained the inner egg contents (white and yolk), and an outer membrane – no shell. Why? We are not sure. The layer feed we provide our chickens contains 4% calcium, which is the recommended amount of calcium for strong egg shells. We also provide free-choice oyster shells, so the hens who need more calcium can add it to their diets. Unfortunately, this hasn’t helped Goldie. Two months ago, Goldie became ill after one of her shell-less eggs broke open in the oviduct. The issue was apparent from the color of her feces (the bright orange-yellow of a free-range chicken egg yolk). Goldie was quiet for two weeks, unable to fly up to her usual perch, and chose to lounge underneath the deck during the day. Little-by-little, she improved. This surprised our family, as we read that most chickens who have an egg break inside of them come down with a deadly infection within hours – not Goldie. Goldie was back in the gardens in two weeks. My family came home from vacation almost two weeks ago to find Goldie sick again with that same orange-yellow yolk leaking from her vent. Goldie returned to her coop-floor sleeping corner, she rarely left the underside of the deck during the day, and her comb seemed to droop a little lower. I knew something was really wrong about a week ago when I brought some of Goldie’s favorite kitchen scraps to feed the chickens, and she ran out to inspect them, but she wouldn’t eat them. Goldie parked herself in the corner of the chicken run where she was sheltered from predators and weather four days ago, and this is where she remains. This time, the egg that broke internally was too much for her. Goldie rarely opens her eyes now, her breathing seems more laborious, and her left foot sits just outside her warm umbrella of feathers in the same position it was last night. More than anything, I want to pick Goldie up and cuddle her to give her some comfort. Though, I know this would bring me more comfort than her. The chickens love to be around us, but like to stay on their own two feet; especially Goldie. So, I resist. Instead, my family and I continue to check on her every hour or two, talk to her in soft voices, and give her gentle pets on her back every once-in-awhile. This evening the clouds finally broke after several days of showers and thunderstorms, so I went out to weed the garden. As I walked into the backyard I saw the kids holding some twine and sticks. “What are you two up to?” I asked them. “We are making Goldie a cross to put on her grave.” they replied. I smiled and said “That is so thoughtful of you. Thank you.” But, what I wanted to do was cry. I proceeded to weed the garden without Goldie by my side for the next hour and a half. I miss her already, but the garden is ready for her. When Goldie passes, she will be buried in the garden among the fragrant monarda, purple coneflowers, spikes of Russian sage, large hibiscus blooms, and yellow roses. Hummingbirds will visit her, bees will provide a constant buzz from dawn ’til dusk, monarchs and swallowtails will flutter in and around the flowers, and I’ll continue to weed the garden with her by my side. My son walked up to me today and said “Mom, it’s hard. I don’t want Goldie to die because I love having her as a pet, but I don’t want her to suffer anymore.” The death of a pet is difficult. Goldie has been much more than just a chicken, she has been a wonderful pet, friend, and gardening companion. We miss her already.
chicken
Watercolor Awakening: An Eighteen-Year Journey
Introduction to Watercolor seemed like an interesting elective course in college. The soft look of the brush strokes, the mix and mingle of the paint colors, and the wonderment of how water effects painting techniques – watercolor painting had intrigued me for years. I needed three more credits before finishing my general courses, and I thought “Why not give it a try.” I hadn’t taken an art class since middle school. At 13-years old I had been given a “C” for a drawing I had worked hard on (and was proud of). I remember asking my mother, “How could Mr. L give me a “C” for my drawing when art is individualistic?” “You have a good point, Erin.” My mother replied. “I think you should discuss your thoughts with your teacher.” The conversation was definitely uncomfortable, but my art instructor appreciated our conversation. Consequently, he raised my grade. Even though our conversation went well, I thought I wasn’t creative enough for art classes, so that art class would be my last. Well, until I signed up for Introduction to Watercolor at the end of my undergraduate program. Loading up on watercolor painting supplies in the school bookstore was much more fulfilling than loading up on textbooks. I filled my bag with a paint tray, tubes of paint, several types of brushes, and a simple sponge – I was ready to begin. Introduction to Watercolor taught me the basics of watercolor: color theory, brush techniques, how to fade colors, how to paint shadows, how to achieve a 3-D effect, etc. We painted flowers, shapes, paper bags, and even attempted to paint portraits – I wasn’t quite ready for that. I enjoyed the class, but I didn’t feel a strong connection to the art – yet. Nine years later, my mother-in-law asked me if I wanted to join her for another introductory watercolor course. I had just had my first baby, and I thought that one evening away would be great for me, so I agreed. The course was much like my introduction course in college, painting techniques were taught and many still-life paintings ensued. A fun landscape project was thrown in at the end of the class, but I still wasn’t enamored. My passion for watercolor painting wouldn’t be realized for another nine years. My kids and I were in the midst of studying the book “The Wild Horses of Sweetbriar” by Natalie Kinsey-Warnock – a classic children’s book with beautiful watercolor pictures painted by Ted Rand. Our assignment was to focus on painting animals, so I dug out my old bag of watercolor supplies I had purchased in the university bookshop and we began. I chose to paint a bunny as my daughter was having a bunny-themed birthday the following week. I was pleasantly surprised with the enjoyment I experienced while painting an animal. A few days later, I was motivated to paint another animal, so I took on a more difficult painting – a chicken. I am particularly fond of chickens as they provide me with plenty of entertainment around our home. A painting that was detailed, yet playful, was my goal for my new painting. Within hours, “Chicken Chortle” was born, and so was my watercolor awakening. I realized my passion for watercolor painting when I started painting pictures that depict the relationships between people, between people and animals, and between people and nature. The past six months have been filled with painting, and I have started on a journey that will always be a part of me. I knew my watercolor passion was there 18 years ago, but it was not fully realized until I found the right subjects. I look forward to sharing my paintings with you, and the heartwarming stories that accompany them. Have you ever had a passion sneak up on you?