About 3am, I sat upright and shrieked that something was after the chickens. Farmer Trav ran downstairs, collecting his shoes and flashlight and gun on the way down. We could hear squawking and a general uproar outside in the chicken pen.
Farmer Trav ran outside and spotted a set of eyes off at the back of the enclosure. He took a shot, and was rewarded with grunting and growling. The eyes ran towards him, then back again. a second shot was met only with silence.
This morning, we found lots of feathers, and a very dead chicken. No prints, no remains of a predator, nothing.
So security has been beefed up here at the Farm. Motion censor lights, better spot and flashlights and attack plans are in place. The chickens are scared, but we have a plan.
Our little chicken will not have died in vain.
Rest In Peace Black Head, and enjoy the Big Chicken Coop in the Sky.
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