I like to think I'm a pretty optimistic person. I mean when 15 out of the 26 chickens I grew from one day old were massacred on a Sunday evening I was initially quite angry. Later I realized that it's a lot easier to count 11 chickens than 26. It's also easier for them to all fit on the top roost. They eat less grain and poop less, leaving the cleaning up task to be less frequent for me. It really wasn't that big of a deal to pawn off the culprit dog on a local high schooler to take away the issue. But today here's another story..................
Last night at "Who's coming to dinner?" I was chatting with my neighbor about his chickens and the possible varmit that has been eating them. He thinks it's a bobcat, jumping out in broad daylight to get his. I told him apparantely our dogs are doing a good enough job keeping the big varmits away because we haven't seen anything. We've been letting them out during the day to forage and they've been doing just fine. Then today, while chatting with a teacher at CHS about chicken experiences she responded with, "Well, the varmits just don't know you have chickens yet. You just wait, they'll find them." This is all just too ironic.
As of today I have successfully failed at my first attempt of raising chickens. Upon my jaunt out to the chicken coop this evening to feed them I discovered Kansas Chicken Massacre II. A few feathers on the ground and a crappy fence pushed down on the end. There were no bodies in sight and the pouring rain kept me from investigating further. My chicken count is now down to zero. There is no need for me to feed them any grain because there are zero chickens to eat it. There are also zero chickens to fight for top roost. I now have zero chickens to care for and watch scratch the ground. No more chicken dancing going on on this farm.
My optimism is not great right now. Maybe I'll go out in the morning and they'll be roosting in the nearby tree. Probably not. I do know that there will be no more chickens brought on this farm again until we actually get a real fence put up. You'd think I'd learn from the first massacre. Apparantely not, but the good news is tomorrow is a new day and they are just chickens.