Losing My Blind Chicken Was Horrid

4. How we came to have a blind chicken I do not know. I was after all just five years old. But I remember Chicken. She wandered about the yard, bumping into fences, pots and bushes. Twice daily Mommie gave me a bowl of corn meal mixed with either water or milk. I guided Chickens’s  to the bowl. She ate greedily until  sated.  Rarely did she leave the yard. One day she was not there. Daddy found her out beyond the far pasture—dead.  Mr. Widner shot her. He said he feared she was rabid when he found her staggering.  Chicken was my first significant loss. I have learned that chickens do not get rabies. Was Mr Widner stupid or me