Monday, January 31, 2011

To protect a chicken.

I haven't gotten much done this afternoon. Why? I've been chasing a hawk.



About a week ago, I go out to do the morning chores and first noticed that I hadn't closed the coop door. :roll: Then I noticed a big bird (well, bigger than a chicken) sitting in the maple overhanging the chicken yard. AAAHHHH!!! Lo and behold, there was a dead chicken just on the other side of the fence. Well, enjoy your breakfast for now; try again, I might have to bring out the big guns. A stuffed bird right above the door would be quite a conversation starter! :evil laugh:



Ahem, back to the story.



Since then, we seem to have a new unwanted neighborhood pet that likes to hang around, granted, he is beautiful. I will give him that much. When he's around, the barn yard becomes dead silent. Not a chicken in sight. Even the geese decide to hang out in the garage.



Then the dog starts barking. Cue the rushing outside in your Crocs and trying to save the chickens. This sounds awefully familiar (think coyote). First time I rush out, there he is - sitting in the apple tree next to the chicken yard. I give him the crazed Viking maiden yell, and he decides that it might be a good time to leave. I head back in and not even 15 minutes later, the dog starts barking - even more aggressively. Goody. I let the dog out this time, maybe she'll scare the bird away. But the dog ran South. As I came up to the barn, I heard the rustling sound from the blackberries by the property line fence and the chicken yard. I ran. It's rather hard to run in Crocs - you should try it sometime. ;) The hawk had just landed himself a snack for tea time, but the hen was still alive. Once again, he decided to leave as I came running up, but he got caught in the blackberry bramble and the fence. Poor guy was trying to fit through the holes in the fence. Uh, sorry buddy. it's designed to keep things on their side of the fence... It's always better on the other side, isn't it?



So, I mentioned that the dog ran the wrong way; she now decided it be fun to join the party. As I was trying to fight my way through the brambles, she got excited and wanted to play with the big bird. Which bird to I save?! The frenzied hawk that just got a serious dose of adrenaline or the pitiful domesticated chicken that has resigned itself to death? I decided to save the chicken - she gives me scrambled eggs, eggnog, and pudding. As I was attempting to untangle the chicken, the hawk eventually got itself out of the mess it was in, and the chicken will be okay with only a minor punture wound from the hawk's talons which was easy to dress compared to other things we've done for our chickens.

And they all lived happily ever after. Except for the hawk because he didn't get his snack.

The End

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