Keeping with the Sherlock Holmes theme of late and mysteries in general, I address the latest events in my realm of existence. One of the hens disappeared. My sleuthing quickly eliminated alien abduction and canine mischief. Events from a prior day provide circumstantial clues as to the likely fate of the missing hen.
2 Days ago, 6:45 a.m. (dawn…ish)
Miss Diva runs into the house as I’m making coffee. “MOM! One of the chickens almost DIED!” My immediate thought is that Marble has been a bad dog again, but she’s inside with me, and was not outside all that long. Before I can ask, Miss Diva continues, “A huge bird swept down and picked it up, but then it dropped it.”
“Oh dear.” Given that it wasn’t fully light, it was probably an owl instead of the hawk I’ve seen once or twice flying in the vicinity during the day. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come back.”
Famous last words, I suppose, considering when I went to feed the hens yesterday evening only four of the five showed up. I poked about the yard in the dark with a flashlight and found nothing, but hoped it was simply due to a small flashlight versus a big backyard. I repeated the search quickly this morning and more thoroughly this afternoon. Alas, no little easter egger hen was to be found.
Unless she evolved superior flying skills and took to the skies, which prior observation does not support, I’m afraid I must conclude that our disappearing hen vanished into an owl’s gullet.
Due to the sad conclusion, I suppose I shall not charge the hens a consultation fee.