The Party's Over

We dodged a bullet today! A bullet with a four foot wingspan and a red tail! The chickens were in the backyard as usual, enjoying roaming the entire area. David was sitting out there relaxing, just watching them peck and scratch. I was at the computer ordering some pajamas for my Aunt Marie's upcoming 90th birthday, per her request, via my sister Judy. Then I heard the most god-awful, blood-curdling screeching coming from the chickens! I looked out the window just in time to see a red-tailed hawk with talons out-stretched, ascending into the sky. I raced outside to see which one it got, David racing from the other direction. My heart was pounding so hard, I thought I would have a heart attack. The chickens had scattered in two different directions and David said the hawk had got hold of Henry, but didn't get away with him. There were feathers all over the place and we looked for blood, but didn't find any. Poor Henry and Henrietta were hiding under the large Colorado blue spruce and the rest of the flock was under David's truck which was parked in the backyard driveway to the barn. Getting down on my hands and knees, I crawled as close to Henry as he would let me to try and ascertain whether there was any damage. He was panting, but seemed to be okay. I managed to shoo the others under the same tree, feeling that it would be safer under there.



The poor chickens were scared to death. The sounds they were making weren't like any I had heard from them before. Very soft little trills to each other, maybe taking inventory, to see if all had escaped and were okay? I immediately sent David to Tractor Supply to buy some deer netting to place over their run. No way was I going to allow them to be out there another day without protection.



While David was gone, I started the process of moving the flock to the coop which is probably seventy-five yards from the tree where they were hiding. I caught and carried thirteen of them one at a time and placed them into the run. As I was carrying Henry, I did a quick assessment and found nothing wrong except for a lot of missing tail feathers. They went directly inside the coop without further coaxing from me. The last three were the hardest to catch. They kept moving away from me to the other side of the tree. Finally, out of desperation, I got a broom out of the garage and shooed them out and back to the coop. Of course, they wanted to hide in the woods on the way, so it wasn't an easy task. My arms are covered in scratches from the tree. You know how prickly blue spruces are.

Where did we go wrong? In a previous post, I declared that our backyard was perfect for free-ranging. Obviously, I will have to retract that statement. It is almost perfect. Unfortunately, no matter how much ground cover you may have, there are going to be times when the chickens are exposed to predators' eyes and hawks can be very patient. The area where the attack happened was fairly well-covered, but the hawk apparently had been lurking in the trees above and precisely timed its dive. I had become very complacent in my thinking. Now, I will be thinking more like a hawk and less like a stupid human. No more free-ranging at will all day long, even on days when I'm away from home. They will stay in their covered run during the day and will be let out for an hour or two in the evening with supervision. They won't be very happy about this arrangement. They love their freedom! This means that I will have to be more creative in finding things to keep them occupied while in the run. Any suggestions from readers would be most welcome. We have tons of dead leaves, so I will scoop a few shovels of those every morning to help keep them busy.

I still shudder when I picture in my mind the very close call we had. In fact, I had a lot of trouble falling asleep last night. I think I will sleep better tonight, knowing that none of the chickens will be a hawk's dinner!

The scene of the attack


The hiding place


Henry's okay, just a few missing tail feathers


Chickens in the run with new deer netting in place

The Perfect Yard for Chickens

I think we have the most perfect yard for our free-ranging chickens. We have about a 3/4 acre backyard that is completely fenced and the perimeter is trees, trees, trees and lots of underbrush for the chickens to hide under and dead leaves for them to scratch in. They're ten weeks old and have been free-ranging for about 2 1/2 weeks now. They love it so much! When I go into the henhouse in the morning around 9:00, they're all waiting patiently in front of the pop-out door. I'm very selfish, though, and make them all pass through my petting hands before being allowed access to the outdoors. Kind of a Great Outdoors admission fee! However, there are still a few who won't give in to my coaxing and will wait even more patiently for me to get the heck out of the way! The elusive Louise, an Easter Egger, will not let me under any circumstances get hold of her. I'm not sure what I will do if I ever have to administer any kind of medication or dust for parasites.


Henry, my silver-laced Wyandotte rooster, has established that he is the big boss of his ladies. He's especially bossy to his chickmate, Henrietta. She is very submissive to him. It will be interesting to see his temperament when he reaches full maturity. If he gets too demanding, I may have to rehome him. I hope not, because he is such a handsome dude!




Here he is with Henrietta, being nice for a change.




Here's where the chickens all hang out when they aren't out in the yard.




A full view of the 20x30 foot barn. It was built by the previous owner from a barn he dismantled on another property. It has two floors. His original intent was to make the second story into a basketball court for his sons with salvaged hardwood flooring. He only made it as far as an oriented strand board floor, but we store lots of junk and furniture up there.