It has taken me quite some time to pluck* up the courage to tell you about this, but there has been a death in the family. That is how Dad chose to phrase it when breaking the news of Orlando's passing to me.
You might have read my post about Orlando and co. here but for those of you who are not familiar, Orlando Plume was a very exotic breed of cockerel, whose time with us was all too brief. As I mentioned in my last post, everyone** had grown fond of Orlando and it was a sad day for the family when he died. Currently we are all at different points in the 'five stages of grief' (I'm nearing the final stage- acceptance).
Of course, Orlando's memory has been somewhat tainted by a lingering feeling that we were all partly responsible for his death, or a sense that this tragedy could have been averted in some way. For me, I feel I should have probed further when we noticed that Orlando had stopped crowing in the mornings- a warning sign that I only too happily ignored at the time. For Dad, I'm sure he has considered the possibility that a carnivorous (and at times cannibalistic) diet was not the best option for a bird, despite his protestations that "They love it!"
The last time I was home, I asked Dad if he considered changing the hens' (Ellen and Portia) diets in light of recent events, to which he responded angrily "I didn't kill him". Dad is still in the denial stage.
* Pun intended
** Okay, not everyone- not Mammy
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