It was a lovely day on Four Mile Farm. The wind was blowing hard. The air was dry. (Of course.) It hadn't rained in years.
The roosters were terrorizing the hens... and the hens were actually spending all the daylight hours finding dark places to hide, which means they weren't eating much or laying much...
That morning when I went out to milk I found a lot of fresh blood spots on the steps. It turns out that when 5 or 10 roosters are fighting over one hen, they can actually do a lot of damage. The poor hen was all torn up. So, I locked her in the milkroom and put some of my MAGIC MIXTURE on her back. Then I went in the barn and got poor Little Red Hen who was in the darkest corner she could find, behind a ladder, and put her in the milkroom as well, for company.
Since I had failed to lock up all the roosters the night before, when it would have been easy to catch them, Mooky offered to shoot them with the .22 for me. Unfortunately, the shooting scared Liberty into the next county. We got a call from a neighbor who said there was a white dog hanging out with his goats.
I abandoned my rooster butchering project and went with Kris to get her. We weren't sure if she'd even let us catch her or not, but she looked happy to see us. She walked right up and we lifted her into the back of the truck where I sat with her for the ride home. And ever since then she has been a DIFFERENT DOG. No kidding! It's like she's thankful we rescued her or something. She has been so sweet and loving, and letting us pet her all over! Before, the most she would usually allow was a little pat or two on the head before she moved away.
1 comment:
Liberty says: Honest, I was not messing with those hens. It was the ROOSTERS! Please don't use that .22 on me!! I'll be good. I promise! ;-)
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