Rosie, Lily and Poppy were settling into their new home quite nicely. Jason’s chiropractor, Cliff, had agreed to take them, adding them to his original herd of five chickens.
“What’s three more?” he said when Jason asked if he could provide a foster home for the ladies.
Cliff had had problems with predators attacking his chickens before (dogs, vultures) so his coop was a veritable bunker, fortified to protect the ladies from land and air attacks.
What he didn’t anticipate was a subterranean strike.
After about a week of peaceful cohabitation, a raccoon dug its way under the coop and killed the chickens. All eight of them.
Rest in peace, Rosie, Lily and Poppy. May you graze and poop to your hearts' content in the green pastures of heaven.