A Chicken Lost

Yesterday morning I went outside to do the usual morning chores-- feed the cat, open the barn doors, and say hello to the chickens. I knew something wasn't right as I walked to the end of the barn that houses the chicken coop--no chatter was to be heard. When I got to the coop, one chicken (Dominque the Dominque) was laying in the floor (usually in the morning they're out and about in their pen). Usually they're all together, so seeing one by herself was cause for alarm. I rushed outside, and saw the limp, headless body of Blackie, the Black Australorp, in the run. No other chicken was to be seen. I rushed back inside to check on Dominique, and was relieved to find that Brownie (the Golden Buff) and Lacey (the Silverlaced Wyandotte) were alive and had been out of sight on the first check. 

Bloomer, my Blue Cochin, was nowhere to be found. The three survivors were traumatized by the event and spent the entire day inside.

Bloomer and Blackie must have not come back into the coop before the automatic door closed Friday evening. The past couple of weeks I had made a habit of checking on the birds each night to be sure they were safe inside their coop, so on Friday I assumed they would be fine. I was sad at the loss of two birds, but I felt really guilty that two animals had died under my care. My dad pointed out that these things happen on farms, and that all you can do is your best to protect your livestock and move on.

So, step one in moving on yesterday evening was setting a trap for the vermin that killed my birds. 

Second, I shut the coop door early to keep the three remaining pullets indoors. 

Third, I ordered replacement chickens that will arrive next week: two Light Brahmas, two more Golden Buffs, and two Barred Plymouth Rocks. 

After I set up the trap by the outdoor run, I put a cement block on top of it to weigh it down and to prevent the vermin (and horses) from being able to move it. 

Needing something relaxing to do after the drama earlier in the day, I headed down to the vegetable garden to do some weeding. On my way back up the hill into the barn, I heard "bawk baawk baaawk." At first I thought the noise was the chickens in the coop, but then I realized the sounds were coming from the tall grass. I started looking around, and look who popped out!

BLOOMER! She was such a welcome sight-- I thought she was a goner! I can't say that chickens are intelligent, but this girl is a survivor. She must have flew the coop when Blackie was attacked and had been hiding all day. Who knows, maybe she was just bawking to bawk as I passed, but something tells me she knew that I take care of her and would take her back to safety. 

Next came the dilemma of how to get her back to the coop. My chickens aren't handled very much as they're aren't picked up, petted, or cuddled on a regular basis. However, they are use to taking treats out of my hand. Bloomer wasn't too keen on following me, so I grabbed some cornflakes, lured her within reaching distance, and scooped her up. She fought back a little (just flapping her wings), but once I got her tucked under my arm she calmly enjoyed the lift back to her home. 

In other news, no raccoon/possum/murderous creature took the bait in the trap last night. Tonight I'll try a different kind of bait.