Matilda was a Great Hen

When I went out this morning to feed and water the animals, I immediately noticed Matilda, our Buff Orpington hen, was not at my feet. Usually, she and Roody, the Buff rooster, are the first to greet me. I saw Roody a little later in the barn with Mayzie, our miniature donkey, but not Matilda.

She must be on the nest, I thought. She’d been laying regularly the past week and I often found her or an egg just inside the coop. I peeked in while watering the Ameraucaunas and Isa Browns, but didn’t see her. I checked a few other places around the barn and out-buildings where she liked to sit, but she wasn’t in any of those locations either.

For the next hour, I worked around, thawing frozen water vessels and feeding the animals. All the while I kept a look-out for Matilda. Roody was all over the backyard, cock-a-doodling-dooing as usual. When the last animal was tended to, I set out to find the hen.

By now, I had a bad feeling about the missing chicken. I wondered if the owl sighted a few weeks earlier by a neighbour had snatched my wonderful little hen. It had snowed enough over night to cover the ground, and it continued to flurry all morning. I tried to find tracks or scattered feathers to provide a sign of what had happened, but the snow made it impossible.

I began my search on the far end of the property, travelling the treeline with Fluffy, the barn cat, at my heels. If an animal had taken the hen, I knew from experience they’d travel just far enough to consume their victims in private. The back of the hay field was clean.

As I approached the path to the small clearing in the woods, I saw a murder of crows swooping and coming up with chunks of something. This was not a good sign. Before I came within thirty feet, I saw the explosion of brown and white feathers. The hen had been torn apart, one wing resting in the small spring and the other on the bank. It was a fresh kill, the unlaid egg broken and the yolk clearly visible within its gut.

I checked the area for animal tracks to identify the predator – fox or coyote – but the morning snow had wiped them clean.

The snow ended just before noon, the temperature rose to plus six and the sun shone, melting the thin layer of snow that had fallen in the past twelve hours. That’s when I saw the point of attack. It had been between the garage and the busy road, so whatever had taken Matilda’s life was probably seen by a passerby in a vehicle.

What is more shocking about this attack is that it happened between 8:15 am (when we last saw her) and 9:00 am (when I went outside to water and feed). When we had gone outside to wait for the school bus, my daughter went to the barn to visit her goat and had seen Matilda inside. When it was realised the substitute bus driver was going to be more than thirty minutes late, I drove the kids to school. The attack probably happened while I was gone. Upon my arrival, the blanket of feathers on the front lawn would have gone unnoticed in the fallen snow.

Buff Orpington Hen

Matilda and Roody checking out the snow last week.

It is sad to lose a hen, but sadder to see Roody crow in the backyard as if he’s looking for Matilda. He still follows me around, but it’s not the same as when she was by his side. Matilda – June 8, 2011 to January 10, 2012 – was a great hen for the short time she lived at Moon Meadow Croft.

4 thoughts on “Matilda was a Great Hen

  1. Diane, how very disheartening and how extremely sad….and she was so young too…and so goes life on the farm with predators close by. Our next door neighbor lost 14 chickens to 2 coyotes just a short while back. We haven’t lost any to predators because of our Livestock Guardian Dogs, but we have lost a couple to falling off the roost and breaking their necks or for no reason at all, and it still is very sad and chokes me up.

    Big hugs
    Valerie

    • I think of Matilda every time out out in the yard and when I look out the window and see the trail of white and brown feathers across the lawn. Roody is trying to ‘hook-up’ with a Chantecler hen, but she’s refusing his advances. Today the rooster hung with the ducks and wanted to go into their home at the end of the day. Maybe he thinks he’s one of them.

      Eek! Fourteen chickens gone? I couldn’t imagine that in a short time. That would be heart-breaking.

      We had a fox snatch two hens about four years ago, but we haven’t lost anything to them since. I’ve never had a chicken fall off a roost, but I’ve had one stepped on by a sheep and one attacked by a rat. There’s one Chantecler who runs into Tazzy’s stall every time the door is open. It’s a challenge sometimes to get her out. Taz doesn’t seem to mind, but I’m worried he’ll step on her. When he’s out, she’s always in there laying eggs.

      Thanks for commenting.

  2. Sorry to hear about this, Diane. This was always the part I disliked about raising chickens. Seemed there was always something lurking around just ready to strike. I hope Roody doesn’t brood for too long.

    • I agree, Laura. This is the hardest part about raising chickens, any animals for that matter. We’ll surprise Roody later this year with two hens to run around with.

      Thanks for visiting.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s