wait, make that eight
I posted last Friday that we lost another chicken, but the reduced flock of 12 seemed
to be getting into a groove. We moved all of them to one side of the coop, and six on
a roost at night worked well. They were far enough away from each other to not feel
crowded, yet close enough to keep each other warm.
Regrettably, I have to change that number. We’ve lost four more.
I couldn’t find Gilda at bed check Monday night. A hasty search in the waning light and
a thorough search the next morning yielded nothing. We still haven’t found her body.
Most likely she escaped the garden and got nailed by a raptor. There are still a few
openings in the overhead netting due to the greenhouse construction.
Then Wednesday afternoon, when I was still abuzz with Obama’s triumph, I went out
with Slinkee to gather more eggs. The girls had been out since mid-morning, but there
didn’t seem to be enough of them around.
I found Minelli, katy and Twyla close to each other in a corner of the garden, all at the
base of the netting. Slinkee had been out alone earlier. She apparently bit their heads,
breaking their necks, as they fed along the fenceline.
The hens will sometimes stick their heads through the netting to feed, making them easy
prey. All three bodies were just inside the fence, though. Slinkee must have bitten them
through the net.
As distressed as I was, I didn’t want to wring the dog’s neck, like I did the day she got
under the netting in the blueberry grove and killed kate and Justine. She doesn’t get
it and she never will.
From now on, Slinkee can go out alone only when the girls are safely in the coop. All
other times she has to be on a leash or chained up. It bothers me greatly to limit such
a high-spirited animal, but she has seven confirmed kills and a possible eighth.
We’ve bought 21 chickens and lost 13 of them. It’s difficult to build an egg business
with so much personnel fluctuation. Jude and I had been considering another dog
because Slinkee is starting to show her age. Those plans, however, are shelved until
Slinkee dies. We can’t risk her teaching a new dog her old tricks.
Anchor Struck 