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.
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.