04/22/2026
Last night I lost my beautiful girl, Spec.
She wasn’t just another bird in the flock—she was one I chose with intention. A micro Serama I had been raising and training for the past year to become a therapy chicken. She had the awareness, the personality, and that quiet connection you can’t force. She was becoming family.
For those who don’t know, Seramas are already one of the smallest chicken breeds in the world—and a micro is even more delicate. Tiny bodies, tiny systems. Spec didn’t lay eggs, but that was never her purpose.
She was healthy. She was loved. She was special.
Last night, she passed from what appears to be aspiration. Something as simple as drinking water can become complicated for birds like this. I had seen her struggle occasionally after drinking, but like so many things with chickens—it can go from manageable to final faster than you expect.
That’s the part people don’t always understand.
Chickens—especially fragile breeds—can be incredibly vulnerable. You can do everything right, watch them closely, give them the best care… and still lose them. It’s part of working with animals that don’t have much margin for error.
And it doesn’t make it easier.
Spec was one of those birds that reminded me why I do this work. Not just raising chickens—but helping people understand them, care for them, and connect with them in a real way.
Because they’re not disposable.
They’re not “just chickens.”
They’re individuals.
And yeah… it’s always the ones you name. Sugar Feather Farm
