Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Chicken drama...

Every night when I get home from work one of the very first things I do is go out to the coop to check on the "ladies." They are normally very predictable, and such good chickens! At dusk they are all on their roost. I count 13 beaks and lock them all in safe and sound.

Tonight it was quite dark when I got home. I took a teeny little girly flash light outside; checked the food and water, gathered three perfect eggs from the next box and then counted; 1, 2, 3...11. Hmm. Something was amiss. I counted again. Still 11. Missing in action were one of my new Partridge Rocks and my older Wyandotte which has been not quite right for a few months.

Stepping out of the coop I saw the dogs looking at a dark lump on the snow. It was
the Wyandotte. She was lying on an icy slope, looking quite dead. At least, until one of the dogs nudged her and she moved a little, in a slightly undead manner.

I went back to the house, luring the dogs away from the chicken, and grabbed a much, MUCH bigger flashlight. A manly sort of flashlight. Slipping across the snow I carefully picked Henrietta up. She looked at me with a cocked head out of one chicken eye, and I carried her gently to the coop. I tucked her into a safe corner where she could reach food and water if she wanted to. I suspect she'll be dead by morning, and a better "farmer" than me would put her down now. But I'm letting nature take its course.

With 12 beaks in the coop I went out in search of the other missing bird. I walked the fenced yard, no chicken. I went to the front yard and looked in the trees, thinking maybe she had roosted. No chicken. I looked until my fingers were frozen. I was sad, worried that this lovely chicken had been eaten by something or was cold and alone in the long night.

On a whim I peeked in the garage before I went in for the night. My whims are good. There was the chicken, nestled down on a little hay that had fallen on the floor. And, bonus! She had an egg with her.

13 beaks in the coop. 4 eggs in my pocket. Nothing like a little chicken drama to wrap up a day.

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