When I came home on Friday, another tragedy had occured. Almost all the chickens had been slaughtered by the dogs again. We irrigated and the ground got soft enough for them to dig under the fence. None that I could see survived. But then Saturday morning, I get up and look outside and who do I see being chased around the backyard by the dogs again? Tina. The survivor. I was so upset by the carnage in the yard, I made my dear manly man clean it up. The owner of the dogs is going to pay us something. Travis told him we'd invested $300 dollars. I don't know about that, but the pain and suffering alone is worth it. They've killed 20 chickens in 8 months. That's alot of chicken. I called Becky and she asked if we wanted to come over for dinner. Matt said in the background, "We're having chicken!" That made me laugh despite my despair.
This morning Tina was still alive and well. Obviously she performs well under pressure because she laid 2 eggs overnight. Crazy hen. And then 5 of her offspring must have inherited some wherewithall from their mother, because they showed up in the coop. Let's put it this way: when Matt told me last night he tried to get me a chick, I told him I have no desire to get more chickens until I can control the perimeter and the sex of every chicken I raise. Small scale production from now on.
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