We started out with three chickens in May. And later on in the summer, we were down to two, because a neighborhood cat took out my favorite girl (Roxy). She was so nice. She was the top bird in the pecking order and loved to be petted. As a young chick she’d hop in your hand if you held it out to her. After she was gone the other two seemed a bit lost.
The kids were asking about replacing her for a while now (and we’ve since changed the girls’ free-ranging habits a bit) so I asked my friend Keith if he had a Barred Rock we could buy from him. He has 8 acres and probably close to 90 chickens. He said sure, come on up!
Well. This new Roxy is a little more country than our city chickens.
After a week here she had adjusted nicely – until I couldn’t find her after dinner one night. I went outside to tuck the three of them in their coop and she was GONE. I looked everywhere! We even canvassed the neighborhood and asked the people behind us if they’d seen her. I was starting to feel like Barred Rocks were some sort of curse for us (or maybe we were a curse on them, lol). I went out one last time after the boys went to bed. It was pitch black outside, and I felt like if I couldn’t find her now she’d be gone forever.
I went outside with a flashlight and shined it up in the cherry tree. There she was! She was used to climbing up in trees at Keith’s house with her friends, but our two other gals have never ventured upward.
They are all getting along very well and now Henrietta and Mrs. Butterworth have been trying some tree climbing, though they aren’t very good at it!