The bodies, er, the remains of my three missing chickens have been discovered.
The culprit is unknown. Possibly a bobcat, maybe even a housecat. Who knows. But whatever it is has carried the chickens off to hide out while eating them. Unlike the coyote who was planning on chowing down right in the open pasture. I don’t know if we’ll ever find out.
I’m brokenhearted about my hens. I fear one of them was my good pal Freedom.
All the others are penned up safely and accounted for.
Disgruntled, but penned up and accounted for.