A Sad Day at Pippingham Palace

Her Majesty – our beloved Diva Tupsi – has taken her final bow and waddled off to the eternal land of treats.

No more fluffy, wobbling Silkie hen sprinting across the yard like a feathery cannonball to beg for snacks. No more standing on the doorstep, tilting her head inquisitively, wondering when someone might come out with a little something extra.

She was the perfect chicken mama – keeping the chicks in order and managing the feeding lineup with a gentle (but firm) peck here and there. A little bossiness is absolutely allowed when you’re a queen.

And even though she was tiny – like a walking mash-up of cotton ball and marshmallow – not a single cat dared give her a tempting glance. Not even Odin.

She adored having her fluffy topknot groomed and always welcomed a little extra cuddle, as any true diva would.

After a day of seeming a bit under the weather, we brought her inside for some warmth and pampering.
But during the night, she passed away peacefully – like a little feather drifting down and disappearing.

Tupsi was our one and only Silkie – and to be honest, we might just have to get another. They’re such a delightfully funny and charming breed, like a mix of pet and fluffy garden ornament.

But… can we really fly the flag at half-mast here on the farm?

What if last week’s visitors see it and think that one of their Jesus brochures somehow made it past Odin’s tight security, and we’ve since “seen the light”?

They barely managed to share a word of gospel before having to flee from Odin, who holds very strong opinions on unsolicited evangelism.

I can’t quite remember when Jesus was said to rise again this season, but we’d honestly be more than happy if Tupsi pulled off a little resurrection of her own.
She’s never caused much of a stir anyway.
And if she did come back, we promise to stay completely calm about it.

No world-shaking religion – just a fresh bag of corn.

Maybe just a little clucking now and then.

For now, little Tupsi has been laid to rest in Tiger Forest.
We picked the spot just in case she decides to rise again tomorrow – it’s a short walk home on her tiny, strutting legs.

And we’ll probably put up a small fence… just to make sure Odin doesn’t take it upon himself to assist with any resurrection digging.