In June we said farewell to our rooster, Petunia, a uniquely wonderful representative of roosterdom. He was the last surviving chicken from the bunch Rundy and I hatched the summer we were married.
The end of an era.
And the boys' very first burial.
When Rundy replaced the sod over the filled-in hole that held Petunia's body, Tadhg questioned what he was doing.
"I'm putting it back on top so the grass will grow back."
"Will Petunia grow back, too?"
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