MABEL'S GONE

        Wednesday night when I went out to lock Mabel in so the racoons and coyotes don’t get her, I found her in a little clump beside the deck. I picked her up and took her to her house and set her down. She was unable to stand up. I figured she must have broken her leg, but I don’t know for sure. I moved her to the location in which she likes to sleep. It’s been more than a month since she stopped flying or hopping up to her roost. She’s remained on the floor and slept beneath the ladder that holds the heat lamp in place.

          This morning (Thursday), I went out with crossed fingers and hoping really hard that Mabel had gone to that great chicken ranch in the sky. Nope, she had managed to turn herself around and one leg pretty much stuck out behind her. I put her food in front of her and left the door open.

          A couple of hours later, I went back and she hadn’t eaten or moved even a little bit. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen an old person who’s close to death…they look resigned and sad and patient all at the same time. That’s how Mabel looks now. I picked her up and tried putting her down on both feet. She stayed that way until I left, but I’m sure she’s slumped to one side or the other now. I also ran my hand over her feathers and she seemed to find that comforting…she closed her eyes.

          I called Thor because they had chickens a few years ago and he had to put one of them down because she had some kind of intestinal prolapse. I asked him if he could tell me how to ring Mabel’s neck. He said you just kind of do it and that he would come tomorrow on his way home from work. Then, I went online and looked it up. You are supposed to hold the chicken by the feet, take hold of the head/neck, pull taught and then lift up until the spine cracks. Well, that sounds horrible, especially if her leg is broken. Wouldn’t that hurt like hell?

          I’ve joked about Mabel and how she’s the chicken that won’t die. Now, the time has come and it’s not funny anymore. I’m feeling really awful. If I leave her, will she die by tomorrow? She’s not eating and there’s no water in her shed…I should take her some. I feel bad thinking she’s just there and in pain. On the other hand, the idea of ending her life makes me feel just as bad…the tears are already brimming at the edge of my eyes.

          Haley and I have also been texting. I called her last night to tell her I thought Mabel was in trouble. The first thing Haley does when she comes over is go find Mabel, pick her up and give her some strokes. Last week Mabel nestled down in Haley’s lap and went to sleep. Mabel is, after all, an old chicken. Haley has a call in to her dad…maybe he’ll stop by on his way home.

          I just took some water out to Mabel and she’s moved from where I left her. She’s at the edge of the door with her leg straight out behind her and listing to one side. I offered the water and put her beak in it, but she wasn’t interested. Her food is still there untouched.

          So, I went for a late walk and tried to buck up and find the courage to come back and deal with Mabel. I’m not sure I heard or remember much of what my walking partner had to say today. I was just steeling myself to do the deed. You know, all the old sayings, “Mabel had a really good life.”; “You don’t want her to suffer needlessly.”; “Mabel’s time has come and you need to be kind.”; etc., etc., etc.

          I invited my walking partner in to see the organization Haley has done in the garage and she also went out and bid Mabel farewell. Mabel had moved since I was out there last. Not really moved, but slumped over onto her side. She looked pitiful. I felt pitiful. Kathy left. I let the dogs out and brought them back in. Then, I went to take care of Mabel.

          It’s not easy to do something like that, but I put on my big girl panties and did it. Mabel’s gone now and by my hands. I seriously hope she understood I was doing my best to be kind to her one last time. Still, she’s now dead and my tears are falling. There’s just so much death these days and this one in particular hurts.