THE SEPTEMBER CHICKEN MASSACRE !

OK, well, no, the sky isn't exactly falling, but SOMEthing has reduced our hen population by about 40 birds...! It started with a look at the flock on Friday evening as I was doing chores, and saying to myself, "THAT doesn't look like 90 birds to me." As it was almost dark, and the hens were on their roosts, a quick count came up with only about 48 birds. .... ..... UH-OH. So, we go into "lock-down" mode -- sorry, ladies (addressing the poultry, that is). No more free-ranging until we have a chance to move the birds and their hoophouse closer to the buildings.

Now, the reason the hens have been banished so far from the house in the first place is their known propensity to enjoy the garden entirely too much. I mean, they're welcome to eat all the foxtail seed heads they want. But, they're NOT welcome to peck on the strawberries during September! So, if they move in closer, they'll have to be inside the electro-net fence, a confinement they don't entirely appreciate, nor do they entirely respect it, leading to a daily nuisance of playing "chicken round-up."

What is the prevailing theory? Well, we don't suspect Salmonella contamination of the feed -- contrary to the recent scare involving the "big boys"!!! More likely, a coyote and/or a fox -- or 3. We've never lost this many birds completely unsuspected. Raccoons, possums, skunks, and even stray dogs, all leave their grisly evidence behind, each with its own unique appearance -- "Let's not go there". But we've heard many a tale of foxes grabbing a bird and going off some distance to enjoy the feast. And, our hens really do enjoy poking around in fox heaven, meaning the brush on the south edge of the farm. So it seems pretty likely. And then, there's the "smart farmer" confession that I really think the last "hen count" was probably the day the hens moved back into their rebuilt quarters, which was... well... 3 months ago.....

I'm a little chagrined that just earlier Friday morning I was replaying for our tour group my usual brag on our ace-in-the-hole farm mutt (you all know, Bonzo), and how, no, we really haven't had any problem with losing chickens out 300 yards from the house. Bad brag! I think we made a tactical error, though, in that, between the house/garden and the chicken pasture, we are currently grazing 5 steers, one of whom has recently shown a distinct dislike for the dogs, especially the "little one" (rather hot contempt/disdain might put it better!), and this seems to coincide with a recent distinct lack of presence of the dogs in the pasture near the chicken coop.

Which of course leads back to a recurring theme in the ongoing saga of the Friesens' steep learning curve in this "diversified farm" game. I never cease to be amazed how the various pieces of the farm puzzle interact in fascinating, but often unpleasant and seemingly totally unpredictable (at least "unpredicted") ways. How am I, the confessed newbie, supposed to guess that finishing a steer in the cornfield would result in losing almost 1/2 of the layer flock in another pasture 200 feet away?! Get smarter, I guess. "Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment."

Now the good news: We were debating how to thin down our aging flock of hens, a few still veterans of our move here 3 1/2 years ago. We were semi-seriously considering releasing a bunch of the elder ladies for a last hurrah free-ranging in the back 40, until they became (inevitably) "food for the wildlife." Although.... I don't think the killer in this case was quite as discriminating in sparing the younger hens!
The other good news: I found 3 eggs today from the new pullets just maturing in the barn pen. And, I don't think it's too late yet to carry out our plan to raise a crop of pullets through the fall and winter. All does not appear to be lost -- for the moment!
And, thirdly, this does put the current egg production of about 20/day in a more favorable light, considering the number of remaining birds....

In the meantime, we patrol the now "cooped-up" hoophouse at chore time, trying to be sure a determined attacker hasn't chewed right through the chicken wire in its enthusiasm -- and yes, that is the voice of experience speaking from a few years ago. (That memorable morning we awoke to "the sounds of silence -- complete silence -- from the coop!