My wife got a little chick from the store, and while at first he was all chirpy (annoyingly so) and had a habit of pecking everything (such as my eyes), he grew on me. He definitely had personality and could recognize both of us, following us around the house. Occasionally he would run so fast he'd wipe out, which was humorous. He'd go apeshit over dead bugs and snatch them up, and was getting to the point where he could almost catch them. He would spend quite a bit of time grooming himself and stretching himself.
Unfortunately, he died last night. Our giant dog came running up and crushed him under her paw. He didn't die right away, but I held him in my hand as he chirruped three or four times, and then laid still. What amazed me the most was how long his body stayed warm. However, it hit me that he would never move again, that his days of running and stretching were over. In retrospect, its amazing at how much the death of this little bird upset me.
I told my wife that he may have lived for a week or so, but he lived the best he could, and there was nothing we could do about what happened. Even so, the quiet around this house tells us that he's gone. Again, I don't know why the death of this little rooster bothers me, but it does.
I did have a dream about it, and its upsetting and hopeful at the same time. It was me and my wife, and he stood in our hands. He looked at us one more time, and then he flew away, up and away to whatever else is after this. It upsets me because I don't have a hard answer about any of this, about what's waiting for us when we move on from this life. And its hopeful because perhaps even for a little chicken, G-d made a place for him too. And if G-d can worry about a chicken, perhaps there's hope for all of us.