Found out from some of my cool chicks who raise chicks (bad I know) that the culprit was most likely a weasel. Who knew those little fuckers can fit through a one inch hole? Chicken wire is now seeming like a dumb name for that wire we have all around the coop. It should be dead chicken wire. My chicken babes inform me that we should have used hardware cloth. I guess I should have read the chicken manifesto after all.
How does this work with a chicken tractor though? I had envisioned my girls digging in the ground and eating fresh grass and bugs whilst being protected from all the critters that want to eat them. Ahh, for that I should get electric poultry netting. Ok, so at this point I am going to be shelling out about $1,000 for my chickens just to be safe. Probably another $300/year for chicken feed. If I get my eggs down the road from my neighbor, I could buy about 500 dozen eggs for the same amount of money and not have to worry about a thing.
Prince has decided he is going to build a weasel trap so he can trap and kill the weasel. He is completely obsessed with the demise of this weasel. The kid is scaring me a bit. Basically the trap is a Have A Heart Trap wrapped in paper with some dangling meat. My Chicken Babes told me I should have set a trap with the dead chickens, but that was just too gross.
Every night we set the trap and every morning Prince rushes out to see what he caught. I am panic stricken thinking about what I am going to do if he actually catches anything, because what the hell am I going to do with it? Shoot it with the nerf gun?
One night before bed I look out the window to see if there is anything in the trap. My gaze is met with the evil red glow of two eyes. Shit! It has happened. My adrenaline is raging. I now have 20-20 vision and could probably smell bacon cooking a mile up the road. I call the husband who is back in the city. Not sure what he is going to do and he is none too happy that I woke him up. I grab a broom as I quietly go outside. I guess I will sweep the weasel to death. My heart is racing like crazy as I approach the trap. The murderer is not moving. He is getting ready to fight. I shine the flashlight on the trap. It's the cat choking down some chicken meat.
When the husband arrives over the weekend, he sets two traps both with meat and marshmallows. He swears by the marshmallow bait. This is what we found the next day. Probably not our murderer, but definitely a threat with a sweet tooth. The husband talks a good game about killing animals, but he can't do it. This guy was relocated to kill someone else's chickens.
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