An Empty Nest

Last Thursday, I went up to the chookyard with a bag of scraps and a bucket of water just like I did everyday. It was close to lunchtime, stinking hot and the first thing I noticed was that the chooks didn't come running to the gate the way they usually did when I approached. Often I can just call out "CHOOKIES" from the back door and I can see them running enthusiastically to the gate, their little heads bobbing around as they eagerly waited for their food. But this time no chooks greeted me. I called out "Chookies" as I approached the gate but could see no birds. Then I saw him, my handsome Randolph lying down in the middle of the yard, partly buried. I knew he was dead, there was no point going in and part of me didn't want to. I can't stand seeing bodies, well I can handle seeing roadkill but not the body of a person or animal that I love, it gives me nightmares. Dropping the water and scraps I ran back to the house and called Duncan on the two-way.

I said, "Randolph's dead. He's lying in the middle of the yard and I can't see the others."

My suspicion was that a fox was involved. Maya would never do something like that. She loves the chooks. When Yolko got out the week before, she chased her a bit but made no attempt to harm her. Besides if she was going to kill them, she surely would have done it before now.

Hayley overheard our conversation and she offered to come and help me look for the rest of the chooks. I gratefully accepted her offer because although I wanted to find them, I didn't want to stumble on any more bodies and I didn't want to get too close to or touch Randolph...or what was left of him.

Just as Hayley went into the chookyard, I saw the body of a hen, also partly buried, not far from Randolph. As Hayley pulled the hen out of the dirt, I realised it's head was missing. She said it was one of the pullets but I still don't know which one. After more searching, she found two more hens - Meeny and another one of the young girls. The pullet was also missing her head, Randolph and Meeny still had theirs. The other two pullets were missing.

What was really sad was when Hayley found a solitary egg in one of the nesting boxes. The young girls had started to lay in late November and we were up to our eyeballs in eggs. They were like little egg-laying machines and had gone from looking like scrawny eagles to fine young hens and they got their combs and wattles. I guess having a fridge full of eggs won't be a problem for us now, that was the last one.

We searched the bush area at the back of the chookyard to no avail. I guess I really didn't expect to find them. Hayley found a place where the wire was lifted up slightly and suspected that this was where the fox had got in. There was no doubt that a fox was responsible when we saw the headless bodies. No doubt the other two hens had been dragged away but a small part of me hoped they had escaped while the others were being killed and were hiding in the bush somewhere. This happened to my bantam Lily who hid in the nextdoor neighbours' garden when a dog killed our other hen. After a day of searching, Lily returned to her house. This time, however, the other two hens didn't come home. Obviously by burying the other bodies, the fox was intending to come back for seconds.

I hate foxes, I really do. Yes, I know it's not the animal's fault. I mostly blame the idiot who introduced them to Australia in the first place.

I know this is one of the harsh realities of life on a farm. There are all kinds of predators that want our animals and I feared this would happen to our chooks. I won't get any more until we rebuild that chookyard and it's like a fortress where no predator could ever get in and no chook could ever get out. It wouldn't be fair to the chooks, it'd be like giving them a death sentence. We never heard any squawking, Maya didn't even bark. No doubt she was sound asleep under the house and even if she did hear something, she'll never make much of a guard dog. She'd either run away with her tail between her legs or go and greet the fox, give him a big lick and say, "Welcome Mr Fox. Have you met my friends the chooks?"

I loved my chookies and I'm still sad they're gone. I look out the back door and still expect to see Randolph pumping his little neck and crowing at the top of his voice. I know it's not trendy to have any kind of attachment to chooks out here where most people I meet seem to see animals only for what they provide. Although Duncan was sad, he's never really had a pet before Ebony and Maya. The closest he's had was a pet goat and a pet lamb when he was a kid. I've always loved chooks and I guess it would have been different if I'd had sixty of them but we only had six and they were all named. I couldn't help but get attached.

I miss my Randolph, he was my first rooster and such a gentlemanly one. He always stood back and let his hens eat first. Not long after we got him, we found out the people we got him off had killed all of his brothers and cousins because no-one wanted them. I said to Duncan that I was glad we saved one rooster from being a table bird. Roosters have such miserable lives, I just wanted to give one rooster a long and happy existence. Now I'm wondering if letting him get his head chopped off would have been a kinder fate than being ripped up.

I miss Meeny. She was an ex-battery hen and I wanted her to have a nice retirement. I miss my four little girls who were not so little anymore at the end. I miss the way they would peck at my boot and peck at the bag of food impatiently until I fed them.

We had hoped that Randolph would indeed be a randy rooster and there would chickens sometime in the new year. Not now......

I'm trying to remember them the way they were, not the way we found them. All I have are the few photos I posted before so I'll post them again. The photos are all I have left of my fowls, along with a heap of feathers, four dozen eggs and good memories.

Goodbye Randolph, Meeny, Attila the Hen, Rebeakah, Yolko and Ginny. Thanks for the eggs. I loved you all :(