No More in Chickens

That's right, the chickens are no more at the Perkins house. I guess we can't really call it an urban farm anymore. The isn't even anything in the garden except for a few herbs and chard and the fruit trees. The boys have become our priority for now!

Anyway, the poor chickens. They had gone way down in their laying, mostly because they were getting old. Pot Pie was the last to go, and she was one of our original hens that we got 5 years ago. She was the one that John sewed up with a needle and thread once when she was attacked and on her last leg. I picture her with an old smoker's voice telling the other hens the tricks of survival in the Perkins backyard.

After we weren't getting very little eggs, if any, from the chickens, we got lazy with closing the chicken coop at night. So, one by one, something got them during the night. It happened over a few weeks. We're not sure what it was, maybe a raccoon or possum. Whatever it was, it wasn't a pretty sight in the coop in the morning. Poor Ladies. They had a good life in our backyard. Thanks for the eggs, Ladies.