She was a small ball of yellow fluff, only a day old. We brought her home and my son Aidan was excited.
There were three others: Kiwi, Violet, Blueberry. But Daisy was special . . . she was gentle, slow, and sweet. They were all friendly, chirping and peeping—running to and fro from the waterer, the food dish, and the heating plate, for warmth.
When the chicks were just a few weeks old, we would take them out of the plastic bin. They’d run around in the carpeted room upstairs, excited to stretch their wings, running, almost flying. Afterwards, it would take me an hour to clean up all their poop. But Aidan was happy, laughing excitedly, sometimes softly, as he saw the bigger balls of fluff pull on the carpet, climb onto his leg, and let out excited cheeps.
Daisy would often, of her own accord, jump onto Aidan’s hand. Then she’d just sit there and relax, her body melting into a pool of squishy fluff. Being small enough back then, she even decided to get comfortable on top of my son’s head!
At six weeks, the chickens moved outside to the outdoor coop. Unfamiliar at first, they soon grew accustomed to being teenage chickens (pullets), and then eventually, young adults.
While Kiwi would be feisty and clucking, Violet busy with digging, and Blueberry go exploring, Daisy would peck the ground, hanging around near Aidan’s chair. He would often pick her up and she would relax on his lap, sitting like melted butter, clucking softly as Aidan stroked her neck. She was the quietest and most timid of the four, but also the friendliest and sweetest.
When she died a few days ago, Aidan cried. We all did. We took her feathered body out to a distant park and buried her, and put yellow roses on her grave. She was just short of a year old, and yet the times with her are like bright spots of innocence in what was otherwise a very difficult year.
We miss you, Daisy, and we thank God that He blessed us with you. You reminded us that there was still joy to be had, even in the presence of a sweet chicken. As you crossed the rainbow bridge, and we stayed behind on this side of heaven, we hope one day we can see you once more.