Five days ago I bought a pullet from a local breeder. She's a Chantecler/Buckeye cross. I kept her inside the coop in isolation next to my other hens for two days and nights and then let her join the rest of the flock on the morning of the third day. We never saw her again....
Though we looked all over for her we assumed she'd wandered away and was already, or soon to become, something's dinner. That night as I stayed up late reading I heard the call our coyote pair make when they're calling their pups to a meal. Well, there goes, Tilly, I thought (we'd named her Attila the Hen because she so thoroughly dominated the other hens as soon as she was put in with them). I felt bad for her and sorry for the one and only egg she'd laid while with us--feeling that it was now the most expensive egg I'd ever paid for.
A few days later, yesterday, I heard a commotion in an old abandoned barn behind our property that belongs to our neighbor. A quick scan of my hens and dogs confirmed that it wasn't one of my hens being pestered by one of my dogs. I walked over and made a search, but, seeing no fresh poop decided no hen was living there. My hopes for recovering the hen were dashed. I decided maybe it'd been my own hens squalling and the sound had bounced around in an echo tricking me about where the sound had come from.
Today my son was playing out in the yard with his 4-month-old puppy. Suddenly I heard him yelling, "No, bad dog, bad dog!" I went to investigate and found a red hen fleeing before the puppy. I assumed it was my New Hampshire Red hen and disciplined the dog, then went to recover the poor hen. It wasn't until I got my hands on her and saw her comb and tail feathers that I realized it was Tilly, the Prodigal Chicken!
She's now safely enclosed in her section of the coop and she'll stay there at least a week in hopes that she'll learn this is truly home. I'll have to feed her lots of tidbits to encourage her not to run away again. Not exactly killing the fatted calf for her--but maybe lot of choice kitchen scraps will do the trick!
I will always wonder where she was for those three days and what kind of wild chicken adventures she had.
Though we looked all over for her we assumed she'd wandered away and was already, or soon to become, something's dinner. That night as I stayed up late reading I heard the call our coyote pair make when they're calling their pups to a meal. Well, there goes, Tilly, I thought (we'd named her Attila the Hen because she so thoroughly dominated the other hens as soon as she was put in with them). I felt bad for her and sorry for the one and only egg she'd laid while with us--feeling that it was now the most expensive egg I'd ever paid for.
A few days later, yesterday, I heard a commotion in an old abandoned barn behind our property that belongs to our neighbor. A quick scan of my hens and dogs confirmed that it wasn't one of my hens being pestered by one of my dogs. I walked over and made a search, but, seeing no fresh poop decided no hen was living there. My hopes for recovering the hen were dashed. I decided maybe it'd been my own hens squalling and the sound had bounced around in an echo tricking me about where the sound had come from.
Today my son was playing out in the yard with his 4-month-old puppy. Suddenly I heard him yelling, "No, bad dog, bad dog!" I went to investigate and found a red hen fleeing before the puppy. I assumed it was my New Hampshire Red hen and disciplined the dog, then went to recover the poor hen. It wasn't until I got my hands on her and saw her comb and tail feathers that I realized it was Tilly, the Prodigal Chicken!
She's now safely enclosed in her section of the coop and she'll stay there at least a week in hopes that she'll learn this is truly home. I'll have to feed her lots of tidbits to encourage her not to run away again. Not exactly killing the fatted calf for her--but maybe lot of choice kitchen scraps will do the trick!
I will always wonder where she was for those three days and what kind of wild chicken adventures she had.
