What's Up With That?

This is what I asked the universe yesterday. What's up with that?

Esperanza was our darling Ameraucana chicken who layed dainty blue-green eggs. Well, she was never a steady layer, but when she was on a roll, she would gift us one of her pretty eggs every other day. She frequently went on hiatus for weeks at a time and then out of the blue, there it would be in the nesting box, her blue-green pearl.

When she was a baby chick, she had a lame leg. Throughout her life of almost 2 years, she got along just like the other hens, but with one eye. She was bullied as a chick and we wondered if she'd make it as she often set herself apart from the other 5.

Her early childhood experiences made her the fiercely independent and almost fearless hen she lived to be. She made me laugh many times.

Just yesterday I was at the duck pond giving out the left-over brown rice tortillas. The ducks were swimming in closer to get theirs and the 4 hens and Red, the rooster, came to my feet asking for their share.

As Esperanza, which means hope in Spanish, couldn't always see what was thrown to her, it depended on which way she was looking, I put pieces down just right for her. The other hens are quick to grab. She gave up on them and walked to the pond.

There she was, chest high in the water, picking pieces of tortilla out of the pond. I had to remind her, she was a chicken after all. She came running out of the pond and scooted across the drylot toward the creek where the other hens had relocated themselves.

Coming out of the house from a cookie break with the dogs shortly after, I heard Red's alarming call. I hadn't heard that call before, but that's what told me something wasn't right. It was a constant and higher pitched call than his typical call to gather his flock.

Alice was with him tucked under the Juniper and with his eyes wide open darting from east to west, he drew me in to his dance of urgency. I looked to the west and saw a reddish dog running off through the neighboring field. The horses were all at the west fence, looking. Immediately I went off in search of my 3 other hens. I have been down this road before and if there was any chance of finding them, it was now.

With Alice and Red accounted for, I then checked off Baby and Juanita but was missing Esperanza. I called and called and walked the creek next door shaking a plastic bag of Dole prepared salad that she loves. (On a side note there are still some feathers from my dearly departed Black Top.) I couldn't find her.

Trying to remain optimistic as she could be almost anywhere on the ranch, I returned to my task of poop scooping, keeping my eye out for her or the returning dog. Then, Pinkie was trying to get at something on the other side of the fence. In fact, it was just under the noses of where the horses had been standing.

Oddly enough, right before this, I swore I heard this throat sound that the hens make. I looked and saw the hens off on the other side of the lawn, so it wasn't them. I spun around the other direction looking, could it be Esperanza?

I don't know if I heard her last call for help or her coo to me as she transitioned into a chicken angel or if I was just hoping I had heard her. I did find Esperanza, lifeless. A dog had attacked her from behind, bit right into her back. Coward dog.

My only hope is that she didn't see it coming, that she was being her happy chicken self with her good eye to the ground, relishing in a new find of hatching bugs. Please universe, let it have been that way.

We have now lost 3 chickens to other people's dogs. Why?

We have 9 new baby chicks, 2 of them are Ameraucanas, like Esperanza. They are named Marilyn and Squirrel, one for her blonde feathers and light eyes and the other for her puffy cheeks seeming like they are filled with a stash of goodies.

It's a tough reality with these animals, as I've said before. I try so hard to protect them and I care for them to the best of my ability. Yet in a minute they can be taken from me in the most abrupt and violent fashion.

What's up with that?

(Esperanza is the light brown hen in the foreground of the photo.)