Sadly the other night my beloved and much revered old YF cobalt hen Molly passed away in my hand.
Little Miss Molly had built a solid reputation over her short life and had bitten anything that chose to linger too long in her path. Her alternative names ranged from Cowbag, BlueHannibal, Cobalt Death, and The Harlot.
Her most famous incident was her first breeding run whereby she set upon my hand in the cage like a cougar to a bunnyrabbit and took chunks from my flesh, hanging on like a bulldog for a good few minutes.
Her death was a shock, I was handling her outside of her cage as she was squeaking lightly on each breath, I checked her over and made a note on my desk to ring the vets in the AM. I came back and examined her abdomen, where she got in her signature crushing bite for what would be the last time.
Nursing my finger, I placed her back on the Y shaped perch they fly onto and she hopped forward to get to the branch fork closest to me, and missed, falling the 1ft drop into my open palm below.
Her wings spread, her eyes squinted and I knew in that moment she was gone. I stroked her as her eyes closed and blood bubbled from her mouth. Something was obviously drastically wrong inside.
G'nite Moll. Forever loved forever missed. Whenever I think of your name, the song Good Golly Miss Molly - By Little Richard, will always play as it did when you were here.
At least you're back with Meeks again now! <3
RIP Doll. Soph.
"If you think you CAN, or you think you CAN'T... You'd be right!" www.lintulempi.co.uk Bird trainer, behaviourist, photographer & breeder. RIP ; Mikko, Molly & Cleo. <3