Yesterday some of our chickens went to a new home. No, not the stewing pot, another farm. Over the winter, seven of the hens became subject to hen pecking by the others. I just couldn't bear it any longer. So I sent an email and within a few hours they were gone. All of the barred rock girls left so Mr. Darcy, our barred rock rooster, went with them. Truthfully, I am glad. Mr. Darcy and I had a love-hate relationship. He was very proud of his girls and prejudice towards me. I often told him that I had a hatchet and I wasn't afraid to use it! I was bluffing. My husband was fond of him. He was mourning this morning at the absence of his crowing. He may never forgive me for the injustice of separating poor Mr. Darcy from his grand home at Pemberley.