Last Monday was one of the saddest I have experienced here on the farm, another death, and this time it was murder. Two years ago, I brought home a bunch of day old chicks from the local tractor supply store. I picked out two of each kind they had, so I ended up with a hodge podge breeds. I will confess, I was never a chicken lover. I suffered salmonella poisoning not one, not two, but three times due to chicken. So I can honestly say, I had no idea that I would fall head over heels for these little fluffs of feathers.
One hen, more than any other, stood out from the flock as they grew up happy and healthy running around the barn, pasture and garden. It was not just her striking black and white plumage, or her Polish wig feathers, it was her personality. We fondly named her Cruella Deville, the character from one of my favorite childhood Disney movies due to her crazy looking head dress.
Cruella thought she was more of a dog than a chicken, I'm sure of it. She would come to us when we called her. She would vocalize happily when she heard or saw us , and would want to be picked up and carried around for a free ride from one place to another. She was the queen of the coop. The roosters were even put in their place by her. She was smart, and for those who have had chickens, you know that "smart" is not always a word that best describes them. She is the first and only chicken, I had ever kissed.
Our flock only go into a coop at night for their safety, otherwise, they are free to roam during the day. They love their freedom. You can see them from the back porch and the side porch busily going back and forth, one minute out by the barn, the next up by the cows in the front pasture and then ending their day nearby the coop in the organic garden area. It is not idyllic as we have lost a few of them to everyday tragedy, a drowning in a trough, a raid by a neighbors dog, 2 stray cat attacks and the various mysterious attack from time to time. In the very beginning we even lost a few to an attack in the coop, but we had modified it over the years to make it more secure, but alas nothing is forever.
The murders began last Friday, I came home to find two of my Guineas dead, one near the coop and one in the pasture. We trapped a raccoon in our live trap and thought we had caught the culprit. That night our coop was raided again (we didn't know how) and a few of my hens were killed. Andy worked on the coop the next morning and thought he had found an area of wire mesh where something might have gotten in, he quickly fixed it. We awoke in the middle of the night on Saturday to the sound of our dogs barking...went outside and found another raccoon in the coop. This time Andy watched him run to the back of the coop and pop out the back. He had been gaining entry through the top, where he had managed to undo a wired shut latch.
After securing the coop one more time, we were sure that all was well. We even delivered several dozen of our eggs to friends in the city that Sunday evening, as they are coveted by our foodie city dwelling friends. But alas, Monday morning turned out to be the saddest day of all. Our mare Star came to us with a newborn foal and a surprise pregnancy from her previous home. Our yearling Skully was born last year in February, so I knew the new foal would be here any day. Every morning I would go out and check on her to see when we would need to place her in the barn by herself for the impending birth. I was thinking about the horses on this very windy morning and had no idea what I was about to encounter.
As I walked past the coop on the way to the barn, I saw that there was a cat in the live trap. It was a Persian that we had seen roaming around on our property. I suspected she had been dumped by her city family, as countless other domestic house pets get dumped out in the country. It's a sad situation for all involved. Most farmers shoot stray animals that come onto their property. Lucky for this cat, we have enough compassion to know that this was once someones pet. Instead of shooting her, we were taking her to the local feed store. The owner there would give her a new home to help with mice control in the feed warehouse. I was so glad we had caught her, because now I felt like we had possibly solved the flock murders (both inside the coop and out). People should NEVER dump their animals out in the country, their chances of survival are slim and they can cause heartache to others. More free range chickens are killed by dogs and cats than any wild animal.
Welcome Yoshimi translation "Beautiful Reason" in Japanese. We named you for our love of music, an homage to The Flaming Lips for uniting us, for better or for worse. This past week we have experienced both. Extreme sadness, extreme happiness for better or worse and so life and death continues here on the farm.
I'm truly sorry about Cruella and happy about Yoshimi!
ReplyDeleteSo sorry to hear about your chickens...It must be heartbreaking...talk about the circle of life...enjoy the new foal!
ReplyDeleteThank you Lisa & Ashleigh ~ this really is life and death on the farm. My husband and I had been thinking about expanding our pastured chicken flock but when this happened, I second guessed our decision. But now, after talking to many of our friends and family who love our eggs so much, we have decided to continue with our plans. Many have told me that my chickens live magical lives, closer to their origins than factory chickens. They do have truly happy lives roaming free around the homestead. This comforts me and allows me to feel better about our decision.
ReplyDeleteYoshimi (the filly) really did surprise us with her interesting color at birth. We had hoped for a filly this time and we were convinced it would be a chestnut like her mom. The name was going to be "Flame" but that name just didn't fit with her, so "Yoshimi" popped in my head from the Flaming Lips song "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots".
I will post her progress from time to time. She is doing great!
When I was in my mid 30's, I went and got myself a puppy. He was just barely too large to fit in my pocket. When he died of old age 18 years later, I wept and wept.
ReplyDeleteThere was an empty place in my life until I adopted Gromit Smileydog a couple years later.
When I was a kid, my farm relatives would make jokes about the animals. Eating pets, and that sort of thing. They are special souls aren't they, the animals we arrogant humans get to know.
I lost a pet rooster to probably a weasel when I was a kid. I still remember the shock and the grief and reading about your Cruella brought it back -- in a good way because I also remembered how beautiful I thought that rooster and how happy he made me for many years. I love that you have a new filly in Cruella's place and wish you the best of luck with her and with your chickens in the future.
ReplyDeleteit's going to be great. And I'm 100% with you on the boob sweat. It's just plain unnecessary!
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Love your blog! I am your newest follower! :) Erin
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ReplyDeleteLoosing an animal is hard, especially when you are so close to it!
ReplyDeleteThe circle of life . . . it really does move us all!
The farm is definitely all about the circle of life. Sorry to hear about your life, but how exciting will it be to see your new colt grow.
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I loved the way you wrote your piece. It showed a love for animals. In my country people abandon animals when they are old, difficult to take care and of no use to them.
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Im sorry about your loss...I know how bad losing a pet hurts :( but congrats on the new foal! :D
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ReplyDeletewow, i really should have set a box of facial tissue next to me. your blog made me remember the great & terrible things that i experienced on a farm in oklahoma. my granddad said that my puppy had the parvo & that i had to shoot her. i think i was 5 or 6 at the time. it was heart wrenching, but i also helped pull some calves that were coming breech. i was devastated when my horse, thunder, got stuck on the turnpike. he was so scared. they have big eyes anyway, but i remember thinking that his eyse were bigger than his whole face. he was almost back to our side of the highway when he was hit by a car. the couple in the car had minor injuries, the car was totaled, & we had to put thunder down. when my biological mother gave me her quarter horse, peanut, i screamed at her that it wasn't the same. you see, thunder wouldn't let anyone ride him 'cept me. peanut would go to my bedroom window & nicker, whinny, & snort. eventually, i started feeding him through my window until one day i climbed out my window onto peanut. long story short, we won ribbons for barrel racing. riding peanut was the closest to flying i could get at the age of 6 without taking an airplane. thank you for sharing your inner most with me & reminding me to remember the good stuffs.
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