Dogs, Hawks, and Chickens
Posted on March 1, 2014 by bob in OffTheBeatenPath
Chicken is tasty, on this the dog, the hawk and I agree. Where we diverge, however, is on the subject of entitlement. By design, my flock of biddies keeps me in eggs most of the year. But an unexpected consequence of their offerings of fresh, calcium-encased protein, is the struggle against creatures that mistakenly believe what’s mine is theirs for the taking.
Coco drew first blood. Never one to be constrained by vertical borders, under cover of darkness she scaled the fence of the enclosure the flock called home and carefully chose her target. I heard the commotion and made for the door, too late to rescue, but in time to see Coco climb back over the fence, limp chicken in her mouth. Had the pullet been a quail, duck or dove, she would have received an encouraging word and a rub of the ears. Instead, witness accounts indicate she received far worse.
In such instances anger is the logical response. But could she really be blamed? Most dogs are only a natural disaster-away from reverting to dingoes, and the natural instincts she exercised I’d spent considerable time and money fostering. The fact she drew no distinction between sporting and domestic fowl was a testament to her breeding, training and dedication.
Not believing my verbal admonishment of her would prove sufficient, I installed an invisible fence that ran the perimeter of the garden enclosure. Coco’s midnight marauding ended, and the flock and I breathed a collective sigh of relief. Though minus a bird, eggs were laid and eaten and normality returned. Until the incident with the hawk.
Coming in late one night from the office, I’d forgotten to close the coop door before turning in. The “Poor Richards’” of the animal world, chickens would, if left to their own devices, be out of the coop pecking and scratching through the landscape at first light. Such was the case the next morning when we were visited by what I can only describe as a small dragon.
Hen screeches in the pre-dawn hour, clearly utterances of distress, disturbed my slumber. The closer I got to the garden, the larger became the hulking, obsidian-eyed menace, perched atop one of my prize but lifeless hens. I was unarmed and he was unafraid, I knowing that even the inverse of the former would do little against this protected class. I wondered if he too, knew this. Eventually, preferring to dine alone, he spread his massive wings, breathed a little fire and flew off. Two birds in two months was too much. The hawk is where I drew the line.
Ritualistically, I began closing the coop door each night, shooing-in any birds late to turn in. On the dawn side, I waited until the last minute to let them out before leaving for work. Though I’ve kept the flock from shrinking further, I’m not resting on my laurels regarding the wildlife interested in my chickens. With an eye toward the sky, I’ve built a covered enclosure where I can only hope my birds will be safe from attacks from above.
As for Coco, she’s adjusted to the invisible fence, though I don’t trust her not to push it. With spring here she’ll likely become pre-occupied with pulling pears from the tree and forget about the birds. Between her and the squirrels, I’ll be lucky to get a pie’s worth of pears from that tree.
If it’s not one thing, it’s another.
Niko Corley spends his free time on the water or in the woods, and earned his charter boat license in 2012. He can be contacted at cootfootoutfitters@gmail.com.
