R.I.P Brave Bob


Last night, one of our three emus died. We called him “Brave Bob” because he was the tamest and the first to take food from my hand. He was also the tallest of our little flock and he was always hungry. He seemed really healthy the day before, and no, he was not the one that was attacked by the neighbor’s dog.

Julia discovered him when she went to feed them in the morning. Laura called me and we went back home. The other two emus  seemed pretty distressed and were pacing around and poking him with their beaks. We removed him from the enclosure and I buried him in the woods.

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