Life is valuable, even the life of a chicken!

One of my chickies is sick. At first I thought Flapper was getting broody because I'd find her in the nesting box. But her behavior wasn't normal for a broody chicken. She wasn't puffing up and acting aggressive; she was acting...well...sick. 

The other night when I went out to put the girls to bed and lock up the coop I only counted seven on the perch. Oh dear! Did the fox finally drag one off into the woods? But, no, Flapper was in the fenced-in yard underneath the coop. 

Last night when I went out there were only seven on the perch again. The wind had blown the door to the yard shut so there was no access to the ramp. I looked around and there was Flapper. She tried to fly up to the open door, but couldn't make it. I picked her up and put her in the coop with a sigh. I hate losing a chickie and I don't think she's long for this world. 

This morning Flapper was sitting in the nesting box hugging the wall as if she needed a support to lean on. I petted her and she stood up and walked out of the box on wobbly legs. I love that chickie and will likely cry when she dies as I have with the others who are gone, especially Bonnie Bluebeard, a favorite. 

When I think of how people become attached to their pets I can't help wondering about how many parents go in the morning to kill their unborn babes and come home later to hug their dogs and cats. How does one make sense of it?

Flapper getting love

I used to sidewalk counsel at an abortuary in Falls Church, Virginia. One of the deathscorsts was Jim, a retired postman. Jim and I became....what? Friends hardly seems the right word. He used to give me little notes saying the babies were returned to God so He could send them to someone else. 

Jim had a dog named Pumpkin whom he loved dearly. He took Pumpkin to the vet and they kept him overnight. Pumpkin died during the night unattended. Jim was furious. He made it his goal to get a law passed to require veterinarian hospitals to be staffed 24-hours a day. I can't remember whether he was successful, but what I said to him was, "Jim, you loved Pumpkin. Can you not think of the poor little babies as puppies?"

We live in an upside down world where many believe baby animals have more rights than baby humans. They will fight for the baby seals or for eagles' eggs, but then shrug over the murder of millions of little helpless infants in the womb or even the neglect of babies born alive after abortion left to whimper and die unattended dumped in a bucket coffin and left in a custodian's closet.

My deathscort acquaintance, Jim, is gone now. He has faced the just Judge. I pray for him sometimes. I liked him, but I hated what he stood for. Jesus once told the crowds to be hot or cold because the lukewarm He would vomit out of His mouth. Jim was zealous for an evil cause. Were there extenuating circumstances? Did God see something that I couldn't? Was Mary there saying, "Spare him because....?" 

I pray that Jim repented in those lonesome and frightening moments before death. I'll offer my rosary for him today that he will meet the little ones he abandoned and spend an eternity in heaven with them. Please, in your charity, join me in praying for Jim today.

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us.

Our Lady, Refuge of Sinners, pray for us.