The joy of a successful goat roast and a 1-1 draw against Argentina was quickly replaced with the sting and sorrow of losing more of our flock. The night after our party, the neighborhood predator struck again...twice. After arriving home very late (or early) from the studio, I found this waiting on me outside:
"Dead Headless Chicken"
Upon hearing our girls call for help, Brian went outside to be the hero. Unfortunately, he was too late and discovered this Rhode Island Red outside the coop. (Why he proceeded to mummify it in aluminum foil, you'll have to ask him yourself.) Before I got home, our evil predator returned to haul off another hen.
That attack left us with a single remaining chicken. Guess which one. Yep, the survivor from past posts. Poor thing had a rough couple of weeks didn't she? The good news, though, is that she's back in the business of egg laying - we've had an egg a day for the past week or so. I think it's safe to declare her fully recovered. What a trooper.
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