Yesterday, exactly a week since Violet died, I found my little Snowball dead in her bed. I was shocked, and cried a lot. I wasn’t expecting her to go yet.

Snowball was one of our original 3. A posh bird bought from Dorset County Show in September 2015. We bought her along with Barney (killed by a fox in May) and Ginger (still with us).

She laid a few eggs in her first year, small and very white shells. But this year I don’t think she laid at all. She decided she was more ornamental and was very good at being the pretty white one.

She had a great character. Although the smallest by far, we think she was the boss, although she was never very quick to the scraps, always beaten by the others. I loved to see her running around the garden. She was also the tamest, allowing us to walk up to her and pick her up and stroke her.

Her feet are purple in the picture above. She had a few issues with her feet, mainly scaley leg, which we would smother in Vaseline, but also a few sore patches that we sprayed with purple wound spray. One day her toe fell off, we have no idea why. But it never seemed to bother her!

For the last month she squeaked when pooing. Comical, but concerning too. The vet checked her and said she was fine, not egg bound, so we let her carry on. It was unusual to hear her like a dog’s squeaky toy but it didn’t seem to be bothering her. She still charged around happily.

She was one of my favourites, such a character that we could forgive her for being a freeloader never laying eggs.

I’ll miss her a lot.

We decided to bury her next to Violet.

Putting the girls to bed last night was very sad. Now we only have to count to three. Ginger seems lonely left with the two relatively new twins that are really quite scatty and the chicken coop seems far too big now.