Then along came Sam, a neighborhood dog. One fateful day, Sam jumped the ditch, grabbed one of the beloved silver-laced Cochin hens, carried her back across the ditch and down the road. Finally releasing her at the south end of the property, where the bird promptly landed in the ditch. Having witnessed the assault, Sam's owner came to report the incident. A shoe-less Sharon ran down the road and jumped into the ditch, not thinking for a second about the leaches and crawdads and other creepy crawlies that live in the water. The beloved hen was not well. Innards had become outtards. She was alive and in shock. Despite our efforts she died during the night. (The hen, not Sharon).
Our chicken flock had become 5.
Sharon's loving husband brought home 10 bantam chicks. 5 frizzled cochin and 5 blue silkies.
Our chicken flock had become 15.
Unfortunately, the first night we had them one of the blue's perished - apparently crushed by the weight of it's siblings all huddling for warmth.
Our flock had become 14.
The second night we lost one of the frizzles.
Our flock had become 13.
No more chicks have been lost and they are growing fast and become stronger every day.
Shortly after, Sharon received a phone call from the local egg guy. "I'm bringing you a chicken," he said. "Why?" She asked. "Because I hear you lost a silver-laced cochin." Was his reply. Can't argue with that!
Our chicken flock had become 14.
Our flock had become 12.
We swapped the two austrolorps for a turkey. We were actually offered two turkey chicks. But Peter's mother would come unhinged at the thought of turkeys free-ranging around here. So instead of live turkey chicks, we swapped for an organic turkey to be cleaned and dressed for us to pick up just before Thanksgiving. Her name is Rosie (short for roasted) and she should have live a good, happy, healthy, free-range life until Mid November.
This morning Peter asked me if we needed some buff cochins to add to our flock. I'm thinking about it. I do love chickens.
I love your stories and you know that. I usually read them in a manner which does not make commenting easy. However, this morning I was at my PC reading so I thought I would provide what every blogger lives for.... a comment!
ReplyDeleteDitto to what Jerry wrote.
ReplyDeleteThere is something primal about protecting the flock. The other day I got a call from a friends' house. They were out of town and the woman who was watching their property was in crisis. A fox had gotten into the chicken yard and spree-killed four hens. I went over and removed the carcasses (not having touched a feathered chicken, live or dead, since growing up in Madras).
I also saw the fox, who was roaming around looking to retrieve another of his kills (he had already carried one of the dead hens back to his/her den). I texted the owners and asked if they had a rifle handy. Turns out they did. For the first time in a quarter century I loaded a rifle and went hunting for fox. He disappeared. But for me, there was something that touched a deep chord. Protecting ones animals from predators. I think everyone should grow their own food, even if it's just a garden or keeping some backyard chickens, just to know what it's like.