Sunday, April 18, 2010

Damn Chickens


Chickens are determined little critters. If you don’t think so just try to prevent them from going somewhere. My friends with ducks and geese have the same opinion.

We have some garden areas that we’ve been able to keep them out of with a three foot chicken wire fence, but anything lower than 3 feet is open to them. We’ve tried bird netting and they somehow pass through it like neutrinos. My Buff Orpingtons have recently become fascinated with a neighbor’s yard. I’ve put up bird netting where they get through, but last night when I was luring the chickens back to their coop the head count revealed two of the blonds were missing.

I called and looked for them in the horse stalls, but I couldn’t find them. I figured I’d hunt for them at the neighbors and there they were in a fenced garden plot. The gate was left open and they couldn’t figure how to back out through the gate since because they would have to walk away from the direction they wanted to go in.

Just like some people they are sure able to problem solve when they want to get in somewhere, but totally unable to figure a way out. I entered the pen and trapped them in the corner and tucked them under my arm and delivered them to their home.

It is nice to find missing chickens alive and well. Too often I’ve found dead chickens in piles of feathers and dog tracks leaving the scene of the crime. It's time for more fencing.

4 Comments:

Blogger darev2005 said...

Chickens, it seems, are alot like inmates in many respects. I've never tucked one under my arm to bring him back, but I have done a few things with their arms to get them in line. If I could get paid the same, I'd rather herd chickens. They are probably smarter.

7:16 AM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

I rad about 30 feet of chicken wire fence yesterday and hopefully that will encourage them to be smarter.

5:23 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Playing catchup in South America after a weekend in a country house outside of Buenos Aires. Fucking roosters...noisy bastards that kick in just after the locals decide to call it a night. Cockafuckindoodledoo...

Moose

10:18 AM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Moose, Rooster, it's what's for dinner. You still going down there, eh? Bring home some swarms.

3:33 PM  

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