There’s a fox lurking on our road these days. Two of our ducks disappeared in the past week and so we needed to put all of the freeranging poultry under lockdown.
Their safehouses are clean(ish), spacious enough, and above all, safe.
Our spoiled chickabiddies are without access to the great outdoors in the sense that they’re used to the run of the property, including the meadows and woods where foraging and dustbaths are plentiful.
I hate putting them behind bars. It’s temporary until the fox-scare abates.
Getting everyone into the coops and garden is a trick. It takes a couple of days sometimes. Also, Escapees are frequent in the first days after collecting them.
Yesterday morning, when I was supposed to be baking pies, I spent a couple of hours trying to catch up some rogues before they became breakfast for the fox family.
So far, this morning has been uneventful though when I was doing the chores earlier, man did I sense the evil eye. I’m not popular with the feathered prisoners.
I apologized and told them it was tough love. I also promised them treats. I’m really good at mother-guilt.