An empty hen house...

Saturday morning I woke up to an empty hen house. Throughout the day I kept glancing out of the window, expecting to see the hens lounging about in the sunlight or scratching about for little morsels to eat. But they were not there. The backyard seemed life-less. It was the first time in years, and the only time since it was built, that the coop was empty.

See, the transplant team questioned my choice of pets. Although my hens have caused no harm, they suggested we move the coop further from the house because keeping birds of any kind when one has respiratory issues is risky. I should not interact with chickens (or any birds) and should not clean the coop. And, I shouldn't be around the straw used for their bedding because it can harbor air-borne pathogens.

After we discussed it, we decided not to move the coop. We started raising chickens in order to have our own supply of healthy eggs from happy chickens. This was a few years ago, when backyard eggs were harder to find. But now, I can easily get eggs that are not raised in industrial settings. The chickens though had became our pets and part of our daily lives. We watched their antics from our window, fed them kitchen scraps, and gathered eggs just a few feet from our back door.

Moving the coop further away would mean I would no longer be able to watch them. Going out to the collect the eggs would seem more of a chore. I can't interact with them. I can't even put straw in the coop. So, we asked some of our friends to adopt the hens and on Friday night we took our hens to their new home.

I am no longer the chicken lady. I am no longer the friend who raises chickens. Yet another thing that once defined me is taken away because of this disease. However, I still care about the health of egg-laying chickens and the nutritional benefits of eggs. I'm still a wife and mother who cares deeply about my family and I wish to stick around here as long as possible. If being around birds is too risky, then I won't be around birds. I'm serious about living, even if it means waking up to an empty hen house.