One of my Speckled Sussex hens went missing last night. I suspect foul play… or is that fowl? Oh, I couldn’t help myself. We are pretty sure that the hawk we spotted a couple times in the last few weeks finally got her. Since that first attack by the red-tailed hawk, she has been “marked for death”. Have you ever heard that term in book or movies? Maybe I have just been reading too many murder mysteries lately. I always thought it was a little over-dramatic, but turns out it’s totally a real thing. If you don’t believe me, go find my chicken.
Joking aside, I really didn’t need to be down a chicken right now. Not that they are laying or anything useful at the moment– lazy, molting creatures. On the bright side: the hen to go missing was one from the breed that laid the smallest, least fantasticly colored eggs. So there’s that. I just can’t get my panties in a bunch over this one. The farm still has eight more hens, the rooster, and a dozen other animals to worry about. I’m just glad I didn’t have to dispose of a body. Although if did, I’m sure one of you would help me “dispose” of a “body”. Ah, again, sorry, I’ve been reading too many murder mysteries.