Only the Good Die Young

It seems to me that predators have an innate sense of which birds I like best. My favorite was Zella until the raccoons got her. She was the sweetest, the most friendly, and the most cuddly. The raccoons had their pick of seven birds and they chose the best of them all. Yesterday, my favorite was selected to be taken from us again.
I had been warned that leaving my chickens out unguarded was an invitation for hawks. I thought, "Well, yes, for big hawks like red-tails, but they stay up in the hills. We only have little Cooper's Hawks. Even my babies are as big as a Cooper's Hawk! No way they would go for a chicken."
How very, very wrong I was.
It's true, a Cooper's Hawk can't fly off with a chicken. But that doesn't mean they won't kill them and tear off part to eat.
A few weeks ago this little fellow started hanging around our house more often.

It came repeatedly to wash its feet in the water along the street, probably attempting to cleanse itself of the blood of something innocent. Vile thing. Some thought it looked cool, but all I thought was how I wished it would shoo before somebody got hurt. But my chickens hated being stuck inside all day so I, regretfully, let them out anyways. The hawk seemed so tiny, incapable of attempting anything on my girls.
Yesterday, this little hawk killed Heidi. My sweet little baby was ripped to pieces by this cruel monster.
I understand the hawk was only trying to survive, but for goodness sake go survive somewhere else! Or don't, for that matter, go die!
I just can't believe that Heidi had to be the one. Heidi was my favorite, the best bird without a doubt.

Nobody came close. No other bird trusted me the way she did, no other was so gentle and tolerant.
 

Heidi was special. She didn't regard me as a threat at all. I was Heidi's protector and we were friends.

I loved Heidi. I loved her quirky character, her ways of resolving conflicts without violence, her little chirps, her cheek tufts, her tendency to not poop on me. Everything.

 Heidi was adorable, and not just because of her looks.

Heidi was adorable because she sought attention, she liked people, and she enjoyed being loved.

 She was the everything a chicken keeper dreams of in a pet and more.

My big girls love me because I give them food, but the little girls have not had treats. Yet Heidi loved me all the same.

 Heidi wasn't as frightened by the world as the other babies. She would fly around, not recklessly, but with a love of life. Sadly, this may be why she was caught.

Heidi was not a solitary bird. If she wasn't with her sisters, she was hanging with me, playing on my lap and hopping on my feet.

 If I had to guess, it was Heidi's example of trust that made Cora and Gwen comfortable around me.

Heidi was a chicken through and through, but her blind faith, her love of attention and her craving for human interaction set her apart.

 

 Heidi's life was short but sweet, and I doubt that our family will ever forget what a wonderful girl she was.