It's with a heavy heart that I write this post.
Seven days ago, I lost my beloved incubator chick. She was just three days shy of her third-month birthday. Her life was cut short by a cobra bite.
The feeling of devastation is profound. For the last four months, I have poured effort, hope, and care into raising her. From the delicate incubation process to the first cheeps, and watching her grow into a healthy young hen... it feels like all that work has come to naught. The frustration and disappointment are a lot to bear.
