Because I have a dying chickie in my bra.

File this under conversations I never expected to have. I have a little 3-day-old chick suffering from failure-to-thrive. She is thin and shivering and I have done all the usual chick saving measures. She’s not going to make it. Left alone with her teddy bear and brooder plate, she peeps plaintively. When I hold her, she chirps softly and goes to sleep. I expect she will just pass in her nap, but until then, she is warm and can feel a beating heart and this is the best I can do for her. Sometimes farming breaks my heart.