Dead Chickens

There is something I have learned about living in the country surrounded by the beautiful Bitterroot Mountains...Something that is not very glamorous. Dead animals....everywhere. Whether by mother nature herself or at the hands of my mountain man hunter. Which reminds me of a loss that I incurred not very long ago. Dead Chickens. 10 to be exact, eaten by my two dogs. It was my first experiment with starting my hobby farm and will forever be known as "The Great Chicken Massacre of 2011." Of course this all went down while I was in the hospital giving birth to my sweet baby boy.Reflecting on my dead chickens that I so lovingly cherished (thank goodness my Husband did NOT let me name them) brings me to a saying that I have never heard before and that quite frankly had me appalled. "A downed horse is a dead horse." Clearly Montana life has me in a bit of shock and awe. Ranch and farm life (even for the hobby farmer) can be very harsh. That is why I have this silly look of awe and reverence for the rancher that comes into our favorite watering hole with (yes they actually do wear them) spurs on and his holstered Smith and Wesson. Even my valley girl thick skull can, like, learn a lesson from this experience. 1. There is no life without death and 2. Just like horses when we are downed for too long we die.Not to be overly morbid but with all my friends, family and acquaintances going through financial, relational and spiritual trouble it can be so easy to be downed. Down for the count. Down and out. Down and dirty...ok that one doesn't count. BUT you get the point. We must keep trudging on for the sake of our family and for ourselves.You know what I'm going to do this spring? Buy more chickens.P.S. Country girl tip: Australorps are very hardy chickens and can withstand very cold climate.