Henhouse Casualties

Backyard Poultry

Twin Chickens

The shock of that first look into your chicken coop after an unexpected visit from a predator is unforgettable. The feeling of helplessness and remorse can't even be described. Perhaps the best description is it's all over now. I know because I went through it last week.

 

During my nearly four years of raising chickens, I'd lost very few of them. Sure, a few natural deaths here and there, sad but to be expected, as well as one encounter with a hawk (see poor Birchie's story here). Certainly my painstaking precautions to protect my flock were a benefit, as we've spotted raccoons, skunks, possums, and dogs around the property repeatedly. But never did I imagine a predator small enough to get through a hole 1" in diameter, strong enough to grab a full-grown chicken, and mean enough demolish an entire flock before it was through.

 

It was a mink. A very skinny animal about two feet long with the tail, sharp teeth, and very sharp claws; an otter is the only thing I could compare it to. My chickens were confined to their coop and plastic-enclosed greenhouse that morning, a week ago from Monday. The mink ripped a 3" hole in the plastic wall and climbed in. I hate to imagine the scene from there on. Six chickens were killed, from my flock of sixteen. Honestly I don't know what saved the others. Minks usually won't stop til all are dead. Either I came out in time, or they found safety on the highest roosts of the coop.

 

For some reason, it always seems that your favorite chickens are the ones you lose. This was partly true for me -- most of my older hens of more unusual breeds were lost. On the other hand, all seven of my year-old Golden Buff pullets survived (which I was not as attached to as my older chickens, but is good on the economic side). I do still have two of my Buff Orpington favorites, for which I am very thankful.

Velvet and Pepper

The "twin" Auracanas in the top photo, Pinecone and Walnut, will always have a special place in my heart, as well as the Barred Rocks I lost in the bottom picture. To remember each of the six chickens, the unique lives they lived and the joy they brought to me as their keeper, I will be doing an individual post for each of them. I only wish for one last time to cuddle each hen.