For us, life on a farm includes sharing our property with more than just horses. We also have a small flock of chickens.
The hens and rooster spend nights in a stall fitted with nest boxes, suspended birch tree limbs for perches, shavings, hay, water, and feed. During the day, they free range around the barn and house, scratching around for bugs and insect eggs, bathing in the dirt, and nibbling on plants. Generally, they do whatever comes naturally.
Our hens were purchased as new chicks, spent their first week or two in a warm box in my office, and then moved to a heated nursery set up in the barn. From there, they eventually moved to the big stall. Within their first year, they started providing us with wonderful eggs.
I really like my chickens. Apparently, so does a fox!
Yesterday, the 3 hens above were killed by a fox. Right next to the barn. Feathers are everywhere. The two brown hens were carried away. The black hen was left behind, throat opened, but otherwise intact. It is not a pretty picture.
War begins.
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