murder and mayhem

Marauders have been in the chicken yard.

My sister and brother-in-law have been having trouble with the chickens for some time now. The newer (blue egg) hens never did lay as well as the older (brown egg) hens and the older hens pretty much just stopped laying and then the newer hens basically quit laying as well. They were getting 2 or 3 eggs every other day from about two dozen chickens. Or none at all. They seemed to be in continual molt. I mean, there is something seriously wrong when you have two dozen hens you are feeding and still have to go buy eggs.

The whole no egg thing was bad enough and though they had lost an occasional hen now and then (including all Ethyl's little ducklings), the violence started to escalate as the weather got colder. They’ve lost half their hens since winter set in. And Gorgeous George the rooster and poor Ping the duck.

Every three or four days, they would lose a hen. Usually at night. They surmised that they had a coon or a possum living somewhere nearby. Their duck and chicken pens had high fencing but no cover. But now and then they would find evidence in the form of feathers or a carcass during the day.

Then one morning during the arctic blast in January, their two little terriers bolted out of the house at dawn barking madly. Upon investigation they discovered that poor Ping was woefully injured and Ethyl was missing. They brought Ping in afraid he would not recover from his injuries and left for the day. When they got home that afternoon, Ethyl was there waiting for them so they brought Ethyl in too since the water in the pond was frozen over and she had no safe haven from the assailant. The chickens were being closed up in the coop at night.

They acquired a live trap and caught a very large possum which they dispatched immediately. I asked her why they didn't just take it elsewhere and let it go. She said she didn't think it was fair to send their problem to someone else. I can understand that. Country life can be cruel.

Ping was recovering from his injuries and they had started leaving him out at night. One day soon after though, they came home to find Ping dead in the duck yard. Their neighbor behind them has two miniature dachshunds that they surmise have been getting in the chicken yard and doing the killing that occurs during the day, but although they have found places where holes have been dug under the fence, they have never caught them at it. Ping was the last straw. They finally confronted their neighbor and threatened harm to those little dogs if they are caught on the wrong side of the fence.

And poor Ethyl is so traumatized that she stays on the ramp to the pond, ready to swim to safety if need be.

This has been enough for my sister who hasn't lived in the country long enough to be inured to the death of the 'livestock'. So the chicken keeping is over. She'll keep the ones she has until they are gone but she's not replacing the ones already lost.

That means no more fresh eggs for me and no more chicken stories.