Earlier I introduced you to my friend, the guinea bird.
My husband found him hanging upside down on the fence with one of his legs caught between two pickets. We don't know how long he had been that way. He was still alive and Jason rescued him from this position. But his leg or hip was obviously broken and was dragging behind him. He couldn't fly, and could barely hop. When we tried to get near him, he flapped his wings furiously, and attempted to run, and usually fell on his face. Jason thought we should just shoot him, but me being the optimist thought maybe he'd recover. So we placed him in the backyard and shut the gates so that nothing could get in there, like a coyote. I bought some food, and we watered him.
He lasted like this for three days. And then I didn't notice him in the backyard. Come to find out, something got a hold of him and killed him. Jason shielded me from awful images, and had disposed of his body before I noticed it. We are suspecting it was a hawk that we've seen around there a couple of times. Please don't dwell on his last moments. Don't picture it. Don't think about it. Go to your happy place.
It's a hawk eat guinea world.
As my niece Ashlynn would say, "When it's their time to die, it's just their time to die."
Aint it the truth. Aint it the truth.