Every time I look out the kitchen window today I feel like crying. I choke up just looking at the two heaps of feathers that mark the scene of last night's carnage in the chicken yard. The feathers seem like flower petals scattered on a grave.
I suspect it was a bobcat who snatched two hens off their roost, dragged them through the little chicken-sized door to their yard, and ate them, leaving bloody carcasses when it was sated. I blame a bobcat because more than a year ago I found bobcat scat inside the chicken house. Recently a possum has been visiting the chicken house at night, but it only wanted to eat the Layena and nap in the straw. No, this crime was done by a carnivore. Possums aren't out for blood.
We love our hens and they love us. We have a great symbiotic thing going. They entertain us and give us lovely eggs as well as rich manure for the garden. We give them food, water, shelter and, supposedly, protection. Lately we've grown lax about closing the chickens' little door at night. Really it should be shut as soon as the girls have gone to roost. I believe most predators in our woods hunt mostly at dusk or just before dawn, so closing up at 10:00 p.m. may be too late.
How a murderous critter got into the chicken yard is a mystery. The yard is encircled by a high mesh fence. But the yard is close to the edge of the woods and is shaded by lots of tall trees. I figure bobcats can climb and jump.
Well, it's time to gather the eggs, if there are any after last night's terror. The cold frames have to be covered with blankets. Brussels sprouts are waiting to be harvested; night temperatures are expected in the low teens. I'll pull some winter wheat for the remaining ten girls.
Now I'm back inside after doing the chores. The girls laid four eggs, bless their hearts.
While I was in their yard I got a photo of their recent entertaining project: excavation. Dennis says they are trying to dig up a tree, because the digging exposes tiny tree roots. He acknowledges, though, that they probably are finding insect larvae. He has tried to discourage their digging by placing bricks and stones around the holes. The girls find these objects useful places to stand for photo ops.
I suspect it was a bobcat who snatched two hens off their roost, dragged them through the little chicken-sized door to their yard, and ate them, leaving bloody carcasses when it was sated. I blame a bobcat because more than a year ago I found bobcat scat inside the chicken house. Recently a possum has been visiting the chicken house at night, but it only wanted to eat the Layena and nap in the straw. No, this crime was done by a carnivore. Possums aren't out for blood.
We love our hens and they love us. We have a great symbiotic thing going. They entertain us and give us lovely eggs as well as rich manure for the garden. We give them food, water, shelter and, supposedly, protection. Lately we've grown lax about closing the chickens' little door at night. Really it should be shut as soon as the girls have gone to roost. I believe most predators in our woods hunt mostly at dusk or just before dawn, so closing up at 10:00 p.m. may be too late.
How a murderous critter got into the chicken yard is a mystery. The yard is encircled by a high mesh fence. But the yard is close to the edge of the woods and is shaded by lots of tall trees. I figure bobcats can climb and jump.
Well, it's time to gather the eggs, if there are any after last night's terror. The cold frames have to be covered with blankets. Brussels sprouts are waiting to be harvested; night temperatures are expected in the low teens. I'll pull some winter wheat for the remaining ten girls.
Now I'm back inside after doing the chores. The girls laid four eggs, bless their hearts.
While I was in their yard I got a photo of their recent entertaining project: excavation. Dennis says they are trying to dig up a tree, because the digging exposes tiny tree roots. He acknowledges, though, that they probably are finding insect larvae. He has tried to discourage their digging by placing bricks and stones around the holes. The girls find these objects useful places to stand for photo ops.
2 comments:
Another beauty, Shirley...so glad you posted the second photo as well as the first. Gives me hope. --Thanks again for coming out to join us for dinner tonight!
Your simile of feathers like flowers on a grave just broke my heart! I'm so sorry you lost two of your girls. Like Cheryl, I'm happy you posted a photo of a healthy chicken posing prettily!
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