What The Cluck

Check, lesson learned.

As the chickens on the ECF (Experimental Chicken Farm) were growing and having the freedom to free range, that's when it hit. Only about a week after true freedom was given, and the chickens were free ranging nicely down on 355, it happened.

It all started the day David went out of town for a work conference, I had moseyed my way down to 355 to feed. That's when I saw her. One of the chickens lying there, having been attacked by (likely) a raccoon or skunk. Why, you ask? Because only her head was gone, and according to the website Backyard Chickens, that's what those predators do. Of course, I was shocked and so very sad about this. I felt responsible and felt the lump in my throat rise with tears to follow. It was then and there, that something was going to have to change. My ECF was not going to be safe on 355 after all. Those predators will likely come back, and they typically do until the whole flock is gone. So that was Wed that I made that gruesome discover. Knowing it would take a chunk of time to get them moved, with the fencing, coop, etc, I was determined to get them moved as soon as I could manage it. But when?

Unfortunately, I lost another hen Thursday, and decided to make a change to the fencing on 355, to confine them, until I could get them moved up by the house, so the guard dogs could guard them, instead of the donkeys. Sadly, it starts this way, these killings. A predator is coming daily for their meal. One per day, and now I need to figure this out soon, like now. So, until I could get them moved up by the house under the protection of the guard dogs, I secured the chickens fencing around them again, and got it all buttoned up. No more free ranging for them - as that's when the killings occurred. So I'd lock then down until I could get them moved. I needed to mull it over about how to get them moved - on my own.



After the second hen was killed, it was obvious she was attacked differently than the first because she was almost all gone. I turned to the donkeys and asked them how they could let a predator stay so long on the property, without chasing it off. The donkeys said it was because it's cold and wet, and they did not want to leave their shelter. Fine, then. I'm taking the responsibility away from you two, Mama and Papa donkey. I'm very disappointed in you both. It's vividly clear that the donkeys are not going to be able to protect the chickens like I had originally thought.

Okay, now I'm two chickens down. Granted they are all secured by fencing again, and it's Friday. I'm heading into work, and the chickens on the ECF would not be free ranging anytime soon. I will make my mental preparations for Friday evening to get them moved. So all day at work Friday, I felt like a killer. I had let this happen, and now I need to fix it. It's all on me, and I'll have to make the move by myself. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Friday's work day ended. I had thought about it all day, and made my mental plan. But I would need to wait until dusk/night fall to start moving the chickens. Why you ask? When chickens go to roost at night, they go into a trance, if you will. They are docile, and in a trance-like state that makes them easy to grab. Unlike trying to chase down 20-something chickens in a pen, traumatizing them. So as the sun went to bed, so did the chickens. The moon shone its night light, and I made my way to 355, almost tiptoeing every step to not wake the chickens. I could hear them in their coop, restless and making their little zoom beanie noises. They knew things were different, with new sounds around them. I'd need to gather 4 pieces of the portable fencing, to place around their next destination: The Belle Tower. But before I do that, I would create a smaller area for them right now, in case they did try to leave the coop, they would not escape far. After I quietly secured their smaller area around their coop, and laid out three boxes for their transport, I then quietly detached the fasteners from the fence, loaded it all onto the back of my truck (via the help of my back - and physics). The headlight I wore around my head was on low beam, and along with the moon watching, the fencing was loaded onto my truck. Success, as Phase I was completed, and onto Phase II: I'll set up the fencing around the Belle Tower - their new coop. I drive it all back to the house, and into the pasture, over to The Belle Tower.




The Belle Tower was once a children's play structure we bought used off CraigsList. We turned it into shelter facility for our only sheep at the time, bottle-baby Belle. She would walk up the ramp to the "second" floor area and look at the window of the little room there. She's too big to do that anymore, but we still call it the Belle Tower, and it's about to be transformed into a chicken coop. I never saw that coming. (It has since been painted and remodeled to match the house and other buildings on the property)

I digress. Using the lights of my truck, I unload this fencing off the truck (my back and physics again), and connect it all together around The Belle Tower, their soon-to-be new coop. I placed shavings in there, and it was ready for the chickens arrival. Now Phase III, the most critical of all: transport of the chickens. I drive back down to 355, and once again, quietly make my way into their now-small fenced area. These chickens have no idea that their about to move homes, but here we go. It's like going to bed in your warm-and-comfy bed in your own home, and awaken in someone else's house.

I count it down in my head, 3, 2, 1 and GO! I quickly open the chicken coop, and frantically start taking a chicken one at a time, coop to the box, coop to the box, coop to the box, then coop to the other box, when that one got full. They are now all awake and trying to get out of the coop and trying to get out of the boxes. It's like a chicken frenzy, but yet they were all much calmer than if it had been daytime. I was counting every time I put one in a box. I lost count. Oh dang. Okay, just get them in the boxes, I'm thinking, and you can count them when you put them in the Belle Tower. Done! All chickens in (one of three) boxes. I load the boxes into the truck, and drive back to the house, into the pasture and to the Belle Tower. I use the lights of my truck to get them through the fencing door, and up the ramp to their new coop area. I unload one box at a time, as the chickens huddle in the corner - unsure of what was happening. I did manage to count them as I unloaded all three boxes. 21. 21 chickens. I used to have 24. I knew 2 had been killed, but what about the other one I'm missing? It must have been taken away by a hawk? Or a coyote even? I had made sure I got ALL the chickens. 21 is all there was. But 21 it would be, and now I could rest that they would be much safer than on 355. Sad, but true.



Mission Completed. Levi and Whisper, Guard Dogs Extraordinaire, were watching all this take place on this dark Friday night. Although the chickens were inside the fencing and up on the second floor of the Belle Tower, I knew they were now safe, and under the watchful eyes of Levi and Whisper.



As those in the area know, a cold front is blowing in, and it'll be 22 degrees for the next couple of nights. We have everyone set up with straw, shelter and protection from the bitter north wind. The barn is shut tight. Let's see what today will bring.

Time to rethink the chicken farm.......again,

Cyndi