We've had such a horrendous year when it comes to chicken raising. We lost 7 fully grown chickens in January to a raccoon attack. I was heartbroken. We ordered straight away from McMurray, because feed stores weren't carrying chicks yet. The first box arrived from McMurray, half of the chicks were dead. More died the next few days, until we were left with only 2, out of 28 or so. Another box shipped, most survived. I got chick fever, got some more chicks from TSC a long the way. I had 42 chicks, I was happy with that!
We had trouble with a neighbours dogs in the past, so off I sent my partner to Lowe's to finally get everything for a fence. $1,800 later, fence is in progress around our acre. In the meantime, he put up a metal fence to create a 1200sq/ft pen, because I wanted to let our now 9 week chicks free range during the day, while we were out.
Monday, he left for work. For some crazy reason, he let the chicks out into the pen. Two hours later, I got up, went out to feed them and as I was approaching I saw a feathery lump. And another lump. I don't remember much more after that, but the pen was full of my poor poor dead baby chicks. We had 38 outside, only 4 were still in the brooder in the house (a picked on leghorn, two tiny bantams and a crooked beak bantam).
I stormed up the road in a fury and followed feathers to her property, with her two little dogs running around outside. I have no proof it was them. We have 4 survivors, out of all the ones that were outside. I never thought I could be so sad over chickens, but I'm crushed to the point of insomnia. I'm haunted by the terror they must have been in their last moments.
I apologise for the essay, I just had to get it off my chest, and this is the only place I know people would understand.
I'm really feeling like we should call it a day. We have two little girls who love the chickens, but I feel like a negligent chicken murderer. Other people have said they were "only" chickens, so I should get over it. I miss them all though.
We had trouble with a neighbours dogs in the past, so off I sent my partner to Lowe's to finally get everything for a fence. $1,800 later, fence is in progress around our acre. In the meantime, he put up a metal fence to create a 1200sq/ft pen, because I wanted to let our now 9 week chicks free range during the day, while we were out.
Monday, he left for work. For some crazy reason, he let the chicks out into the pen. Two hours later, I got up, went out to feed them and as I was approaching I saw a feathery lump. And another lump. I don't remember much more after that, but the pen was full of my poor poor dead baby chicks. We had 38 outside, only 4 were still in the brooder in the house (a picked on leghorn, two tiny bantams and a crooked beak bantam).
I stormed up the road in a fury and followed feathers to her property, with her two little dogs running around outside. I have no proof it was them. We have 4 survivors, out of all the ones that were outside. I never thought I could be so sad over chickens, but I'm crushed to the point of insomnia. I'm haunted by the terror they must have been in their last moments.
I apologise for the essay, I just had to get it off my chest, and this is the only place I know people would understand.
I'm really feeling like we should call it a day. We have two little girls who love the chickens, but I feel like a negligent chicken murderer. Other people have said they were "only" chickens, so I should get over it. I miss them all though.