It’s been a tough couple of weeks, chicken-wise.
A couple weeks ago, for the first time ever, we had a chicken killed at night in the shed.
Then it was two.
Then three and four, despite our attempts to lock down any entry points.
And after the fourth, I decided that I needed to rehome the rest to get them out of harm’s way.
I am grateful to the Schoonovers who agreed to take in the gang on such short notice.
The only chickens remaining here are Yella (who is unavailble for comment as she’s hunkered down pretending to sit on eggs) and the Speckled Sussex girl who was attacked by an eagle on Tuesday and is recovering from her wounds in the safety of the shop.
It is very strange to not have chicken friends boppin’ around the pasture. I was very sad to see them go. But I am also relieved that they are no longer living under threat of attack by (most likely) racoon.
I have taken down the chicken cam, and brought in the “honk for eggs” sign.
As Forrest Gump would say, “And that is all I have to say about that.”
At least for now.