Last night one of my closest friends, B, called me because one of his hens had been mauled and was in bad shape. He figured she needed to be put down, but he couldn't do it... he loves his hens, and this one, Buffy, was his favorite... the most docile and friendly of the three.
On the phone I was asking him questions about the injury, hoping it wasn't as severe as he thought, but when I got there it was... oh my god... fucking awful.
I think a raccoon must have cornered her and then basically just started eating. I've never seen anything like it, and I didn't know a living thing could be damaged that badly and still be walking. Poor, poor little hen. Me and another friend sent him on a walk around the block while I took care of and buried Buffy. Then we took B out and got dinner and beer and hung out with him a while.