A mask'd bandit took dem der chi'kins
OK, back to my tale about our short time with Harvey, Leola and Spazzz.During the weeks that we were able to (cough cough) enjoy the chickens, it was spring and the most enjoyable time to have the windows open. Hell, we couldn't sleep with the windows open because Harvey would start at 5am. During the daytimes, I would sit here in my office trying to work, and all I could hear was that rooster screaming (I cannot bring myself to call it crowing). I started joking with my friends that I was fixin to make Rooster Noodle Soup if the effin thing didn't let me get a full night sleep. I NEVER could have said that to Elmer, he loved his critters and was totally enjoying the experience.
Anyway, the name Rooster Noodle Soup perfectly describes the love-hate-hate-hate relationship that I had with Harvey, and my attempt to embrace this new lifestyle.
Well, one evening just after dusk, Elmer went to let the dog out, and heard the chickens carrying on. By the back door, he got his testosterone 1 million watt beacon lamp (a glorified flashlight that can spot something the full 20acres away) and shot it toward the chicken pen, which was covered top. sides and rolled at the bottom with chicken wire. As he is running to the pen, he sees there is a raccoon inside it, and the raccoon sees him coming. The masked critter was running ON THE SIDES of the pan trying to find his escape. Elmer described it as a curve in a racetrack that actually goes vertical and it looks as if the cars are driving on the wall, this raccoon was a'goin round and round.
Of course, he also described this 'coon as the BIGGEST FREEKIN RACCOON I HAVE EVER SEEN! OMG, IT IS AS BIG AS OUR DOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Our dog is a 80 pound slutpuppie labrador, Ruby, but the slutpuppie thing is yet ANOTHER story you have to wait for)
(oh yeah, and why, oh, why are all of our animals boing-boing happy?)
By the time Elmer got to the pen, the 'coon escaped and he came running in the house with Harvey. Harvey was hurt, but the others were not, as he obviously was protecting them. His injuries were not clearly visible, there was a small bit of blood. We cleaned him up and held him for a while. By the next morning, he was weak and not able to eat; we think the 'coon had him by the neck and broke it or broke his larynx. We put him down as soon as this was clear to us so he wouldn't suffer.
2 days later, we went out to the pen (which, by the way, we doubled the security on) and the other 2 were GONE, vanished, not one sign of them, not one sign of how they got out or something got in and got them . . . . . just a trail of feathers heading off into the woods. We bawled like babies. STUPID CHICKENS. sniff sniff
Now, Elmer sits on the porch with his .22 on his lap, just a waiting. . . . . . . . .
duck season-wabbit season-duck season-wabbit season -
HELL, ITS 'COON SEASON ! ! ! ! ! !
YEEEE HAW!
Thanks for the encouraging words Dawn! This is fun, making light of our new life here.
- - - doo dah