When we arrived home from work last night, we discovered that Snowball the cat had 5 pure white kittens. (DD called G'ma K and told her that Snowball "laid" 5 kittens). Momma & babies seemed healthy and happy. Great . . . 5 more cats . . .
When I pulled in the driveway after choir, I noticed two strange dogs in the yard and lots and lots of gray feathers . . . I freaked out, chased the dogs off, and ran in the house to find the biggest gun. I also freaked out my DD and DH as I ran through the house screaming about dead chickens, wild dogs, and a few curse words thrown in for color.
Couldn't find the dogs. Nor, could I find the corpse of Betsy (previously known as "Bleep"). DD, DH, and the dog were all home at the time of "the mauling" and no one heard a thing! Swept up the feathers that were strewn across the garage floor, all the while thinking, "there is NO way that a chicken could live through this kind of treatment." I resigned myself to the fact that the dogs had carried her off into the night and she would never return again. I even called the neighbors and felt like a mobster putting out a contract hit on the traitorous wild dogs.
Betsy before:
Betsy after:
Up early this morning and worked in the garden planting the rest of the peas, lettuce, turnips & radish. DH had to be at work early, and I didn't, so I let DD sleep in. It was a nice, quiet time in the garden to reflect on God's will and the complexity of Mother Nature. The cardinals were trying to console me with cheerful spring songs but the mourning doves' song was a more accurate representation of how I was feeling. As I was finishing up in the garden, something caught my eye . . . it was Betsy wandering out of the garage. I burst into tears and said a little prayer of thanksgiving.
She no longer has any tail feathers and it looks like the dogs got a pretty good grip on her behind, but she seems okay, considering the trauma she had been through. I let her in with the other chickens and she settled herself into her nesting box. Another day in the life...
As I drove to work, all I could think of was this.
2 comments:
Betsy is a beautiful chicken! I've never seen a chicken that gray color before. I'm glad she is okay!
The only chicken I named is named Scar. She's a tough ol gal. Last year before we butchered off the rough and tumble roosters, I found her pinned beneath the chicken house. She must have been trying to escape their wrath. Her head hung out and the other chickens were all pecking her. She was there for hours because hubby wasn't home and I couldn't get her out. I thought she was dead. Then hubby got her out and she walked around all fine and dandy except she was scalped ... literally. Ick. Thought she'd be dead by morning. Then thought infection would set in. Nope. She's still ugly (feathers didn't grow back on her head), but she gets along just fine. Not only that but our beagle has had her pinned down not once, but twice. The last time she laid out in the field for over an hour before I found her. I thought she again was dead. Took a shovel and as I plopped her up she flipped onto her legs and took off for home. Dang bird is the only one in whole bunch that can fly too. Gets in and out of the pen all the time by herself ... and the dog doesn't bother her anymore.
I'm glad Betsy is okay.
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