Photo: Karen Roe, Flickr Creative Commons
My last hen was killed by a raccoon this week and I don't know if I'll be restocking or not. I know it's a raccoon because they leave behind a mess for you to clean up. The foxes take the whole thing with them. The birds just go missing. The raccoon just beheads the damn thing, eats a few choice internal organs and leaves the rest behind, covered in fire ants and swarming with flies and starting to stink the heat of a south Georgia September for me to clean up. I've got that order in to Sand Hill Preservation for their fall special but that's not a sure thing. If they don't have enough eggs laid this month, they'll be returning my check. If I sent in my order too late to make the cut, I think I may be getting out of the bird hobby. I hate keeping them penned up, but where I live is just a little too wild for the domestic chicken and I'm too domestic to be able to defend them.
5 comments:
I understand that completely - the urge to write but wordlessness.
That's when I just write for the sake of writing, but don't post stuff. Even though lately, everything I put out feels forced.
And I'm sor about the birds.
The website I work for will soon be publishing a slideshow on kick-ass chicken coops. Maybe you wouldn't feel bad about keeping them penned in if you had an awesome coop. I'll let you know when you can see it.
I know what you mean about wanting to write but having nothing to say. Happens to me all the time. Some of my best posts come out of that, though.
I've seen some pretty cool coops - like ones you can put on wheels and move around so that the chickens don't destroy all the grass in one area. You could always pimp their coop. Then it would probably be easier to leave them there.
I'm not sure what Julie has in mind, but if you "pimp" your chicken coop then I'd like to see photos.
Damn raccoons. Today it's the chickens, soon they'll be stealing our jobs and our women. What you need is a bigger fence, just like in Texas.
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