I have lost my army.

No, they didn’t die. I lost custody of them. By way of a break-up. I’m sure the story going around is I abandoned them, or I didn’t pay for them or their belongings - which is NOT entirely true. I never asked for a tiny chicken coop to be bought - I had plans for repurposing old cabinetry - and I never asked for a bigger coop to be made. I only asked where can I put a bigger run since it was his property. I still planned on repurposing the old cabinetry. I bought the chickens - I have the receipts. I took care of them - the entire frigging town has witnessed it. I bought their feed, both initial and subsequent food stuffs (layer feed was recently purchased - not by me - and can’t be fed to them for another three or four months) - I have the receipts. I bought their necessary grit - I have the receipts. I was the one that took care of them while they were in the house during the hot times. I was the one who checked on them every two hours for food, water and to give them greens, iced treats. What I didn’t buy was the initial pine shavings - I was going to use shredded paper. I was actually getting ready to shred another batch when I got a text about the purchase.

So, yes, I paid for them. They are mine. However, it was his idea for putting a fan outside for the hotter days (he purchased it - the second one is mine). It was his water usage that went up in for their care (chickens go through lots of water when they are young - mainly cuz the dingbats scratch at the dish, or they knock it over when they try to jump on top of it to play “King of the Mountain”). It was his electricity usage that went up for having the fans run 24/7 too keep the chickens comfortable.

Even though I was vehemently told I was no longer allowed on his property, I have driven by often to check on the chickens - they are still alive and looking well. And despite the fact that the chickens were my idea, and despite the fact he hates my guts, he is still continuing to build their “Big Bird Barracks” (he calls it a “chicken shack”) - at least I am assuming so since I can hear him pounding away at it and it’s still standing. It’ll be a nice home for them - roomy and with every amenity a chicken could want. I just hope the chickens don’t expect him to communicate with them like I did, because I can say from personal experience that ain’t gonna happen. I do miss my chickens - even though I think they are all roosters. They were my sanity - my contemplation spot on life when things started going downhill. But I know he will take care of them.

SO…this is the end of the chicken army story. Gonna say it was much shorter than I thought it would be and not nearly as exciting. Hell, even the spiders at my house right now are all like, “Nope. Ain’t messing with this woman - I don’t care how much the King is offering in bounty.” I still squish them - they’re in my house. And I’ve taken to killing the ones that look like brown recluse or black widows outside. Usually I leave them because outside is their home. Not anymore. I have no regard for where they are. If I’m working in that area, they better scram before my boot drops on their ass. I am going to say the war has definitely ended. And as with all wars, there is no winner.