I let my baby chickens out of the house to roam around the house. They love eating bugs out of Tweets flower bed. Then I went inside for a little nap. Something woke me from a dead sleep, a sense of dread, a distant call, a fathers instinct. WTF!! I threw on some sweats foregoing the shoes ignoring the goatheads that pierced my feet. No chickens anywhere. I walked around to the south side of the house. Huddled in the Iris's was Ary, Goldy, and Gizmo, completely comatose with fear, no sign of runt. I picked up the three and carried them to the Coop. Then went on a frantic search for Runt. She was nowhere to be found. I looked for signs of a struggle, only a single fuzzy down feather cought in a branch of the lantern tree. I called Tweet at work, "Runt is gone! I dont know what happened." We have a fence around our yard but my frantic mind was racing, there was a bit of space under the gate that a dog could squeez under. There had been a kid with a blue punk rock haircut walking by staring at me. I had nodded at him noticed he didn't nod back. Rage inside me, I started taking mental notes. All the neighbors dogs were suspect, didn't remember seeing any cats. A Hawk? That punker kid? I fantasized about catching something in the act of stealing runt, My fist the crunching of bone, my boot catching the thief in the ass. anything to assuage this anger. For days I stewed, angry, feeling like I had betrayed Runt with my ill advised nap. Finally, a week later, I let my three remaining chickens out of the coop for a bug expedition while I went inside to mix thier food with Nancies yogurt that I bought special for them. I walked outside. There, circling low, was a hawk, the culprit, Back for a snack. I found Ary, Gizmo and Goldie had learned from this past encounter and had hidden themselves in a thorny shrub by the shed.
In my minds eye I had already walked out of my house a thousand times, catching the perp in the act of grabbing Runt, grabbing him in my vengefull hands ignoring its beak,fists, or fangs as they plunged into my flesh even relishing it, as I began my act of destroying the creature that had dared to defile the sanctity of our space and taken Runt from me. I called Tweet at work. " It was a hawk." Silence..."Well at least now you know." Although I'm a person that loves the wild things of this world, and don't care for the hunting of wolves, raptors or anything endangered. I have to confess this experience has allowed me to empathize with the farmers and shepherds of the world that had felt the need to go forth to avenge the loss of thier flock.
The one thing that gave me pause in my self righteous anger is, if I had walked out of the house and it had been a Bald Eagle, what would I have done? The answer. Though I cant be one hundred percent sure...could have been to run back inside for my camera.
Been trucking since 96. My main interest is having a good healthy life.