They’re Ba-a-c-k!

Author: Meera, August 9, 2014

The sound of the chickens squawking propelled me upright in bed. The sun wasn’t up yet but there was a ruckus going on in the chicken house. And it didn’t sound pretty.



I leaped from bed, staggered to the window, pulled up the blind, and looked out.




I know she's thinking, "I'm not coming down until that fox is gone."

I know she’s thinking, “I’m not coming down until that fox is gone.”



The foxes had returned. One stood on its hind legs, pawing at the double layer of poultry wire screwed over the open chicken window.


I yelled, “Get out of there!” hoping the fox would leave . . . but it didn’t. It just made the chickens squawk louder.



front view fox lg em




Throwing on my robe, I raced to the patio where my red, rubber (indestructible) clogs waited for my feet to slide in. Grabbing the broom and a two-by-four, I raced to the chicken house, yelling all the way.




This time the fox paid attention, but showed no interest in retreating. I waved the broom and pounded my board against the metal garbage can (in which I keep the 25-pound bags of chicken feed). The noise did the trick. Off went the fox to join the other two.





The three disappeared into the wooded acre of land behind our property. Finally, my chickens settled down. I let them out for the day. One deposited her egg–not in the nesting box–but on the ground, as if too freaked out to go back inside the hen house. Well, can you blame her?



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