When I opened up the chicken coop on Halloween morning, Helen and Jane ran out as usual … but there was Georgia, dead on the floor. No obvious cause, but my sweet, beautiful and lively bird had not laid an egg for close to a year, a sign of hen-old-age and that the end was probably near. Regardless, she certainly seemed to enjoy her “retirement”, and she made me happy every day. Georgia was one of my original flock of three chickens. (Agnes and Pearl are already in chicken heaven.) I’m glad she had a peaceful and natural death. These things do happen.