feathers missing

Well, in less than a week our brood of hens has gone from 8 to 4. There are feathers missing....

On July 3rd we headed to a fireworks display and the chickens weren't cooped up yet as it gets dark so late these wonderful summer days. (They coop themselves when it gets dark. Catching all 8 is an Olympic Event we have yet to qualify for, although we have attempted several trials.) When we arrived home, around 11:00, we locked up the coop and headed to bed, unaware that Orangie was missing. In the morning, we noticed our white feathered Orangie was not in the bunch. We searched, but not a trace was found. Will took the news well. "Mom, my chicken's gone. I bet a coyote got her."

Thursday morning, 3 more hens were missing. Tulip, my sweet hen mama Natalie's bird, Lilac and Daisy. I woke early that morning and headed to the store about 6 am. When I went outside I saw 3 hens on the back patio and 1 was hiding in the aquarium the kids use for snake catching. I knew instantly something wasn't right. They seemed shaken and on edge. I looked around the yard, not finding any other hens and I knew something had happened.

As I drove down our driveway, I started seeing clumps of Lilac's feathers. Then, a trail leading down the drive and across the road. Guilt set in... The night before was Ted's birthday and by late evening we were exhausted. I asked Ted if he had locked up the coop and he said I'm pretty sure I did. Know this unfortunate incident was not Ted's fault. When I asked him, I instantly had a check in my spirit to go check the door, but I chose to ignore it because I was tired and thought it would be fine.

I read a question in a devo the next morning that said: "Pain is a natural consequence of poor decisions. Think of an example from your life. Who suffered pain because of a poor decision you made?"

I caused not only myself pain from a poor decision made on Wednesday night, but my entire family and especially Natalie. Thursday morning was difficult. Ted and I shared the news with the kids. Will and Lydia weren't emotionally saddened rather matter of fact about the news. Natalie, however, broke into tears and was absolutely crushed. Questions of how and why streamed as she struggled to wrap her mind and heart around the loss. Her heart ached as she listened to what happened, comprehending that it was parental error versus a natural means. Ted and I told her how sorry we were that we hadn't done our part. We asked for her forgiveness which she immediately and willingly gave. (Children are so like Jesus when it comes to forgiveness.)

We searched outside and found the fourth hen on the front porch, alive and well. Natalie spent her morning studying the lumps of feathers and deducing the way it may have all gone down. We found raccoon scat on the sidewalk leading to the front porch and believe coons were the predator. We miss the 4. Although they were just chickens, there is a loss felt and a sadness for how it happened. Sadly, Lilly has lost her buddy and Dahlia hers. (Buddy meaning the chick they grew with and looked like.) Harriet, amazingly, is 1 of the 4 remaining. She has survived 2 sets of disappearances now. The stories she could tell. With the recent stressful events, I am certain we may not have eggs until Christmas.

As Ted and I reflected yesterday, we realized we both actually heard it all happen. In our deep sleep, we assumed it a dream. It occurred around dawn, before the sunrise. We don't know if the raccoon that took Lilac also took the other 2 or a bird of prey, but we do know that we've asked forgiveness from God and our kids for not caring for whats been given to us. We are all recommitted to being better hen owners. This means the door will be closed each night, exhausted parents or not.