A Chicken Saga

In June, my last blog post, A Tale of Two Hens, related the story of our first clutch of eggs to hatch and the two hens who mothered the six chicks. As a family, we enjoyed the whole experience of watching the chicks appear one by one and observing the interactions of the mother hens as they taught their babies. The chicks had grown and were about seven weeks old when there began to be trouble in paradise. Earlier in the summer, a week spot in the run had been found, first by a raccoon, and then by a bear. The raccoon was caught and released elsewhere. Though we did not see the bear, the clear footprint left behind in the soft dirt inside the run assured us it had been there and enjoyed the chicken feed. Both times no harm was done to the flock which was tucked safely inside the coop for the night.

One evening, close to dusk, the rooster began to make quite a commotion. At first, we did not pay much attention; but when our daughter went to the coop to check, she came running back with news that half of the chicks were gone and one of the six hens was missing. After hurrying to the coop, we discovered black and white feathers scattered throughout the run; so we assumed that hen was gone. One of our sons heard and saw a chick in the woods above the coop, so it was quickly brought to safety. After some searching, we located another chick in the woods below the coop and were able to chase it back home. One chick was still missing; but by this time, it was getting dark. Even with a flashlight and listening carefully, we could not locate it in the dense underbrush. After finding two in the woods, we thought there was a good chance it was still out there; but it did not seem likely that the creature would make it through the night with no protection against predators. Miracles do happen though! The next morning as I went out to open the coop, I thought I heard a sound in the woods where we had been looking the night before. My husband started through the underbrush, and the missing chick came running, making a bee-line for the rest of the flock. You can imagine the joy when the children found that the lost chick had returned!

For a few days, things returned to normal; and the run remained undisturbed. So, imagine the shock and dismay one morning in late July when I went out to open the coop and was met with near silence and dead chickens all over the floor of the coop. The rooster and two hens were sitting on the roost, but all six chicks and four hens were dead. The door of the coop was not disturbed in any way, so I knew it had to be a predator that could squeeze into small spaces. The dead chickens all had a bite mark on their neck. You could tell there had been quite a scuffle, but only one body was missing. It all seemed so senseless. After doing a bit of internet research, it seems likely that it was a weasel. Later, someone suggested a mink as another possibility. Both animals can squeeze through holes as small as one inch and will kill just for the blood. It was a devastating, sickening experience.

As we were planning to leave camp and move down the mountain for the season in a few days anyway, my husband quickly packed up the two remaining hens and rooster and took them to our coop where we live in town. One hen had been injured in the attack. For a few days, she sat on the ground a lot; but she eventually healed and returned to normal. The other hen was the cream-colored mother named Vanilla. The poor things were so traumatized that it took a month and two months for them to begin laying eggs again.

A few weeks later, my husband picked up six two-week old pullets from Tractor Supply. Although they were added to the coop with no squabbling, to this day, the older chickens and the new ones stick to themselves without much mingling. Eventually, we should have some full-size egg layers.

The new pullets

A few weeks after Vanilla started laying eggs again, she went broody. By this time, it was nearing the end of September; and with colder weather coming, I did not think it was a good time to be raising chicks. But she persisted in sitting. So, after thinking about the fact that she could keep them warm, I tucked three eggs under her. Twenty days later, two of the eggs hatched over a two-day period. The next morning, Vanilla and her two chicks were on the floor of the coop. One chick was healthy and bouncing around, but the other one looked almost dead. Its eyes were closed, and it would try to walk and fall onto its back. Vanilla was stepping on her chick and kicking dirt on top of it. It was quite a pathetic sight. We were not sure what to do, but then our daughter dipped its beak into water. It drank several times and began to “cheep”. We needed to leave for a while, so we left the chick with its mother hoping for the best. Our daughter was quite sad; and in my mind, I really thought the baby would be dead by the time we came back home. When we returned hours later, the mother was not paying any attention to the sick chick; so we brought it inside and began to feed it sugar water. After continuing this routine all evening, the chick had opened its eyes and was getting stronger on its feet. Before going to bed, I realized the chick was not very warm, so we decided to tuck it under its mother and see what happened in the morning. I was silently praying, “Lord, for our daughter’s sake, please allow that chick to live.” The night was pretty cold; but once it was light the next morning, I was so grateful and excited to find two healthy, hopping chicks and an attentive, caring mother hen. I really wish I had taken a picture of that sick chick, because the difference was so dramatic, like night and day.

Vanilla and her new chicks. The white one had a rough start.

And that concludes “A Chicken Saga”! There may be more tales in the future; but for now, there is a happy ending.

Caring for that chick reminded me of the way God care for us. Luke 12:6-7 tells us, “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” Matthew 6:26-30 reminds us that God cares for the birds and the flowers, so we do not need to worry about how He will provide for us.