It wasn't the black and white hen (Dominick) whom I thought was sick, huddled by the feeder, not roosting with the others. But snug in one of the nest boxes, was one of the black hens, eye sunk in , dead. She's now on a bier of branches part way up Red Bud. I wouldn't mind if a coyote took her; but I didn't want the dogs to, so I flung her on the pile. I doctored one of the ducks who limped in their yard as if one leg had been half frozen, or so I imagined. I gave the duck some Agaricus (good for frost bite) and put it in the chicken house. Duck is doing well. What a marvelous feeling of duck in my hands like a warm pillow; I wanted to rub my cheeks against its feathers.