I hope all you fathers out there had relaxing Father’s Day. Mine wasn’t relaxing, but it was highly appropriate: I spent a chunk of the day laboring to protect the little ones … chickens, in this case.
A few days ago, Chareva informed me she found three dead chickens in the coop.
What?! No way! We built the Fort Knox of chicken yards!
Turns out Fort Knox isn’t so impenetrable if you leave the side door open. Somewhere in the course of rearranging and extending the nets to cover Chareva’s garden, we left a big ol’ gap between the garden and the chicken yard. I’m not sure how we failed to notice the big ol’ gap, but fail we did. Granted, the critter had to climb a fence to reach the gap in the nets, but it was only a matter of time. Once I spotted the gap, I felt a bit stooopid for not noticing it earlier.
We’ve been working on the chicken yard where we plan to move the chickens. Last month we finished putting up the poles, then endured the process of unfurling a thoroughly furled net and coaxing it up and over the poles. Now it’s up there nice and high.
We also repurposed the last of the pavers the previous owner left behind to create a don’t even try digging under this barrier. The only problem is that we didn’t have enough pavers to create a double layer.
That means we also didn’t have enough pavers to create a barrier between the two old chicken yards. As we found out the hard way a few years ago, a raccoon will happily let itself into the unprotected chicken yard nearest the forest, then burrow under the fence that separates that yard from the adjoining yard.
In other words, the re-netted chicken yard isn’t ready for prime time quite yet. Not until we make a few trips to Home Depot and buy more pavers.
So rather than move the chickens, we made another stooopid decision: we told ourselves if we pulled the tarp down over the current chicken coop and locked the chickens in there at night, they’d be fine for another day or two. After all, Rocky Raccoon IX had already eaten his fill and probably wouldn’t be back that night … right? I set a trap with a can of cat food inside just in case, figuring he’d rather go for the easy meal.
Two dead chickens on Sunday morning told us that 1) Rocky Raccoon IX isn’t a believer in intermittent fasting, 2) he prefers fresh chicken to cans of cat food, and 3) he’s perfectly capable of lifting a tarp, reaching into the coop and killing a chicken.
So we spent Sunday afternoon doing construction. At least the rain that had been forecast held off.
I didn’t take pictures because I was busy uttering ancient curses known only to small-time farmers who have to do hot, sweaty work on Father’s Day, but the construction job boiled down to adding a second layer of fencing on top of the fence that separates the garden and the chicken yard. Then we lowered the net a bit on that side and tied it to the top of the fence. Trust me, it was more work than the brief description suggests.
The remaining chickens were all alive and well this morning. Either Rocky Raccoon IX couldn’t find his way in, or he took the night off.
In the meantime, I reset the trap. If we’ve learned anything about raccoons, it’s this: once they discover a supply of chickens, they never stop trying to treat themselves to chicken dinners. The only permanent solution is to send them to raccoon heaven.
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Try leaving a Gideon bible for Rocky
Should I bookmark any particular passage?
“Should I bookmark any particular passage?
An explosive one? “Touch this and your life will change forever and you’ll get to meet God?”
Hmmmm, probably not though, stealing (chickens) is a sin, as is murdering (chickens and Father’s Day plans?).
How much are these farm-fresh eggs actually costing you in time, effort, and money? Ever consider getting your farm-fresh eggs from someone else? Just sayin’.
Even selling eggs, I’m sure we’re not making a profit. We may be paying the equivalent of $10 per dozen when you add up the cost of all the construction material. But we like having land and chickens. It’s a lifestyle thing … and you can remind me of that the next time I’m out there uttering ancient curses known only to small-time farmers.
I refuse to figure out how much my eggs & rabbits are actually costing me. But I love my chicks & bunnies – even if I do eat them! Got 3 little chicks that hatched out a about a week ago. They are so much fun to watch – better than tv!
Well you ARE in Tennessee which IiRC is Daniel Boone country, so you could turn that raccoon into a coonskin cap. Then if you want to go the whole Fess Parker all you’ll need is a suit of fringed buckskins 🙂
That means I have to move farther west when I can see the smoke from another man’s cabin.
Reminds me of a cartoon in an Aussie magazine where the character is looking at some dots in the distance and exclaiming “Strewth! The Ninety Mile Beach is getting overcrowded!” Or words to that effect – it was a long time ago.
Moving farther west in today’s America could be counterproductive. Remember Los Angeles?
In my nightmares, yes.
The only bate I use in my traps is peanut butter. Caught everything that fits in my trap.
I like that idea. Probably cheaper than cat food.
Off topic, but American Thinker has an article today about bogus health info and mentions the “white meat will kill you” study. My wife posts under the name homeschoolmomof11 and urged everyone to watch your movie and visit your site in the comments section. I hope it gets you a few sales! You may even want to comment.
Tell her I appreciate the plug.
Hey Tom, I don’t know if this is applicable but back in the day my dad kept raccoons out of the sweet corn by a double electric fence meaning two strands, one on top of the other. Might not hurt to have such an outer barrier if it’s feasible. Obviously is an electric fence, nothing can touch it, including tall Blades of grass because they will short it out
We have a solar-powered electric fence, but it won’t fit around this particular chicken coop, which is right up against another fence. We might use it when we move the chickens.
Raccoons are clever.
It should be possible to make a profit on eggs from free range birds. Joel Salatin does it. He uses guard dogs. They seem to work against hawks, too.
We’d definitely need guard dogs if we went free range around here. Our property stops at a forest, and it’s full of chicken-killers.
🎶He said, “Rocky, you met your match”
And Rocky said, “Doc, it’s only a scratch
And I’ll be better, I’ll be better, Doc, as soon as I am able.”
Her name was McGill, and she called herself Lil …
But everyone knew her as Nancy.