our girls

I'm so devastated.
Travis came home last night and told us every single one of our beautiful hens was eaten. Not just eaten, but had it's head taken off and body left on the ground. He said he arrived to let the girls in and saw a huge fox running behind a burn pile, chasing one of the hens. With the hope that the other girls were safe in the pen, he went there and found it empty. Out side the door, he started to look around, and there they were. Everywhere.
The truth of it hasn't really sunk in , and won't until I get there and see the empty chicken coop. I am terrified to tell Nathalie, although I am sure she understands that this is life. Things come and go. She gets it with meat consumption- I think. She's met several of the animals that have found their ways into our freezer, and then, gradually our plates. We've talked about it as the cycle of life, farming, and true honoring of a living thing.
But this is different.
I feigned tough-girl-ness when I told my friend Erin that we were going to probably eat these girls after the summer.  Travis and I both were practically in tears while we talked about our poor little friends last night. That's just it, you know? We talked about how the second you walked down into the yard they just wanted to stand near you. I'm certain that is how they discovered I was trying to plant seeds in the garden space. (Like "HEY..What is that? It looks delicious?!) We talked about how they would snuggle up to Nathalie and let her stroke them like a cat.
Sigh. These were my getting over the fear of poultry birds. And Nathalie's first animals, besides cats.

I don't know what to say. I guess nothing teaches us more about life then death. Or birth.
We'll sure miss those girls.