My neighbor stopped by today to ask about my bantam hen Cinnamon. I haven't seen her in two weeks. She said that her and her granddaughter are missing Cinnamon's daily visits to her house. She had her routine that she never strayed from. In the morning she'd have a little Daddy time with me then she would bop over to the neighbors house for a smackeral of food and a visit with their chicken. In the afternoon she would make her way back to our property and mill around in her dirt bath or stop at the bird feeder and score a few seeds that fell on the ground. She also enjoyed getting chased around by our Bulldog Prudence. I think she really like that. They hung out together. Prudence would eat the poops as they fell out of Cinnamon's ass (maybe they taste like chicken). The absolute greatest thing about Cinnamon is how early in the morning I would go out and open her pen and she would come running out and she would run right beside me and follow me around until I bent down and she would jump up onto my arm, then we would go score some bread and sit on the deck and I would drink my coffee and she would have her breakfast. Another great thing she did was when she would see me, she'd break out into a full run and sprint to me. Hilarious watching something run so fast with no arms. My neighbor said she a hawk swooping down trying to get her chicken, so that must be what happened to Cinnamon. I've been kind of in denial, hoping she would just show up one afternoon and come fly up on my arm. I look for her all the time, seeing her in my mind as she walks along the fence. Deep down I know she's gone though. She was a great friend and I will never forget her.
