05-23-2009, 07:57 PM
When I was a Junior in High School, as the bus dropped me off at my house, I heard a huge commotion coming from out of the chicken coup. I looked, and some chickens had excaped from the pen, some of them were trying to excape. They were in a whirl of flight and there were feathers flying everywhere.
There were only about forty chickens left out of the one hundred my dad had bought earlier that year because a weasel had gotten to a bunch of them. At first dad had let them free range, but the weasel took a huge toll. We were constantly finding dead chickens in weird places, for example on the work bench in our little shop or on top of the family car. So when I got off the bus I figured that maybe the weasel had gotten in the chicken coup.
This however, was not the case. when I finally got back there to see what was happening to the chickens, I looked in side and there was one of our family dogs mauling another chicken to death. He had snapped up one by the neck and whipped it in the air and it landed in a bloody, feathery heap. I said "Hey !!" and the dog froze. Then he leaped out of the pen with one fluid motion and took off like a shot. I opened up the door to the pen to survey the carnage, and as I looked I saw that it was like Chicken WWII in there.
There were chickens with there wings ripped off, chickens with gapping holes in their sides, dead chickens in heaps. Live chickens chickens missing feet. Chickens suffering through all manner of stress and trauma. I was the only one home at the time, and after thinking about it for a minute I knew what I had to do.
I went inside and grabbed my .22 rifle, loaded it, grabbed a handful of shells and put them in my pocket and went back out to the chicken coup to finish off the chickens I didn't think would survive and put them out of there misery. Bang, bang, bang, I killed one chicken after another until the job was done and there were only a few healthy chickens left. The smell was bloody awful.
Pretty soon, my dad arrived home from work and he came out to see what had happened. I looked up at him and said, "The chickens were my job, the dog is yours" He lifted his eye brows, looked at me and said "Uh huh", turned around and went in to find the 12 gage.
There were only about forty chickens left out of the one hundred my dad had bought earlier that year because a weasel had gotten to a bunch of them. At first dad had let them free range, but the weasel took a huge toll. We were constantly finding dead chickens in weird places, for example on the work bench in our little shop or on top of the family car. So when I got off the bus I figured that maybe the weasel had gotten in the chicken coup.
This however, was not the case. when I finally got back there to see what was happening to the chickens, I looked in side and there was one of our family dogs mauling another chicken to death. He had snapped up one by the neck and whipped it in the air and it landed in a bloody, feathery heap. I said "Hey !!" and the dog froze. Then he leaped out of the pen with one fluid motion and took off like a shot. I opened up the door to the pen to survey the carnage, and as I looked I saw that it was like Chicken WWII in there.
There were chickens with there wings ripped off, chickens with gapping holes in their sides, dead chickens in heaps. Live chickens chickens missing feet. Chickens suffering through all manner of stress and trauma. I was the only one home at the time, and after thinking about it for a minute I knew what I had to do.
I went inside and grabbed my .22 rifle, loaded it, grabbed a handful of shells and put them in my pocket and went back out to the chicken coup to finish off the chickens I didn't think would survive and put them out of there misery. Bang, bang, bang, I killed one chicken after another until the job was done and there were only a few healthy chickens left. The smell was bloody awful.
Pretty soon, my dad arrived home from work and he came out to see what had happened. I looked up at him and said, "The chickens were my job, the dog is yours" He lifted his eye brows, looked at me and said "Uh huh", turned around and went in to find the 12 gage.
"Sir, You need to get out of your car, there is a train comming."
"Why ummm... uhhh did you ummm... feel the need to errrrr, god why can't I type!!"
"Why ummm... uhhh did you ummm... feel the need to errrrr, god why can't I type!!"