It's always puzzles me that most animals nearing the end of their lives like to take themselves to a corner of this earth away from all others in order to die in darkness and peace.
Last night , during a rainstorm I shut all of the animals up in their houses as usual.
I hadn't checked if all were occupied...I presumed that they were.
Bingley never wandered more than ten feet away from his green painted home, he never needed to.
This morning, as usual, I opened them all up again only to find Bingley's house silent and empty.
Sometime yesterday, he had taken himself off to some bush or ditch somewhere in the field, even though his legs were shaky and his balance was off.
I searched for him , but I could find nothing . Not even a feather to signal that a fox or the nightly badger sows had found him . But the hawthorn hedges are now overgrown in their summer green and I would need a machete to search for him properly.
And so, I decided to leave well alone, it was his time to wander off to die.
That's the nature of things