Monday, November 13, 2017

Less eggs; leg and chicken

The right leg egg popped during ministration and after a mass of it drained there was padding applied to soak the rest. I'll risk a shower soon and see how it went in the night.

But before shower and egg check I went outside and found three of the chickens murdered in the night; not eaten or carried off—just killed. 

Two of the chickens survived; a brown and the big gray one. In fact judging by the feathers spread around the yard and over the fence that belonged to the big, gray chicken it seems big chicken fought the murderer off.

I gathered the three slain for the plastic bag and thewife check and tried to rake the feathers from the murder sites but the plastic rake, sun-worn made brittle, quickly snapped. I used a kid-sized metal rake but that was too much bending and had to give up.

The survivors won't come out of their zone at the back of the fence near the window. I left them some Pringles in easy reach to make them feel better.

From now on we'll have to lock them away at night instead of leaving them to perch on the old hutch lest their enemy come back.

I loved those chickens, and I loved the scruff who looked like Don Music from Sesame Street. They're now in a bag, ready for the bin.

That's the perils of urban chicken ownership; the occasional loss of 60 per cent of your brood to a spree killer.

I suspect it's a cat that should be locked up at night—but not the usual interloper that torments our house-bound cats by sitting on the mat outside the screen door so they'll charge it with a metallic clang and freak me out that someone is breaking into the house. That cat would have had a go at them by now.

RIB, chickens, RIB (Rest In Bag).

UPDATE: I moved some water near their chosen spot and spread out some grain. They both came out and let me stroke them and check them. Then the brown went into the hutch. So they appear to be okay save for the fact they lost three sisters in the night. I don't know how a chicken deals with trauma. Well I know how the gray one dealt with it---fierce pecks, flapping wings and clawed feet; she's got five natural weapon attacks!

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