Posted by: juliegirl | October 30, 2009

injured chicken

Yesterday, I woke up to barking in the backyard at 6:00am. Turns out, Vermillion has learned how to bark like a dog. She was standing on top o100_1828f the coop, barking at a stray cat running through the backyard.

Our neighbor Butch across the street is a unique individual in many ways. Maybe it’s the blue-tarp covered refrigerator on the front porch, or perhaps the old van loaded up to the ceiling with boxes. He’s a hoarder, and, by one neighbor’s count, has collected thirteen cats. They run to his van when he pulls up, roam freely into backyards and on top of cars, and they sit on my porch and torment Oso.  And now they’ve found the coop.

Today at 5:30, I woke up to squawking and screeching. It was clearly a chicken vs. stray cat situation, but all I could see was a pile of feathers. It was dark out and rainy, and the other girls were still in the coop sleeping. And there was no sign of a chicken anywhere. I was convinced I had a dead chicken on my hands.

When I got home from work, there was Calcasieu limping around the backyard, feathers rumpled and dropping off of her. She seems okay, a little worse for the wear but safe and sound.

I called the SPCA about the stray cat situation across the street. Apparently, they can sell me some traps and I can bring in all of Butch’s cats. That sounds like a great weekend activity.Grr.

Poor Calcasieu

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