In November, when Limprahpunsin's chickens began falling ill, she didn't worry. Chickens die all the time, she reasoned. Then, in four days, 100 of her birds died.
"We still didn't know what it was," she said. "Then we saw the news and the government started telling us what was going on." When the time came to slaughter her flocks, she could not bear to watch. She left as the men she hired stuffed the birds live into bags, burying the bodies in deep pits.
Limprahpunsin prayed at a temple for nine days before she felt her conscience was clear.
The coops, grain silos and egg crates on the farm are empty. The government, she said, promises to replace the 40,000 chickens she had to have killed, and add 1,000.
Villagers give comfort
When Captan died, Chamnan and Jongrak Boonmanut followed Buddhist tradition by having his body embalmed and displaying it in a casket for six nights at their house. Relatives gathered every night to pray with the monks who came to give comfort to the boy's spirit.
On the seventh day, they cremated his remains.
Hundreds of villagers came to the funeral. "Everyone helps each other here, loves each other like family, even if they aren't," said Pakkanan Boontong, the aunt who gave Captan the rooster.
Thai Buddhist funerals are all-day events at the local wat, or temple. The parents received guests, who were invited to eat and listen to the monks. After viewing the body, family members carried the casket and a picture of Captan around the wat three times before heading to the grounds' crematorium.
At Captan's funeral shrine, his parents placed his favorite toys on a table: a battery-operated dog barking its way around a plastic train track and a warrior monster, as well as a photo of Captan and his older brother with two live tigers. His bicycle was there too, piled with his favorite soccer clothes.
When the casket containing Captan's body was placed in the furnace, his mother wept, holding her other son close.