Forensic Science

A tragedy befell us this past Saturday. The girls found all but one of our half grown chicks dead in the barn isle. Five little bodies had been mauled, but left largely intact. Those of us used to the occasional chicken thief know that varmits (raccoons, opposums, weasels and even foxes) will generally only come in the mask of dusk, dawn, or into the night. Varmits also generally will eat the chicken, leaving little behind. This was murder in broad daylight.

The chicks were in a homemade chicken tractor on legs. The rabbit wire was curled back from where it was nailed on the inside, pushed up from the bottom by an obviously large animal. Varmits won't go to such effort, pulling the wire back only enough to squeeze in, and they can squeeze into holes you might not believe until you've seen it. This could only have been accomplished by a large dog, and our neighbor's unruly border collie/black lab mix was seen in our yard that morning. She has before been observed harrassing our chickens in our other chicken tractor. Yet, we did not witness the event. I am debating on whether to notify the neighbor that his dog is a suspect in this crime, yet I wonder what it would accomplish. Perhaps he will understand why I call him to come get his dog every time I see it from now onward.

As I said, all but one was dead, my girls distraught. One chick was missing. Frankly, I had hoped that the bird was dead and in the jaws of the perpetrator, so there was no mistake how this happened. Daisy, our beagle/lab mix, however, was following a scent. Picking up on this, we gave her the "find it" signal and off she went. For awhile, we looked around in the brush for the chick, an Aracuana hen, the chick I would have chosen to live if I had only one choice. Out of the corner my eye, I saw the chick running with Daisy in fast pursuit. We called her off, but not before the chick escaped in the underbrush and according to Daisy, through the fence into the neighbor's yard.

Daisy was put on a leash, and I gingerly climbed the fence which is topped with barbed wire, had Lauren hand 40 lbs. of dog over the fence, and said "find it" without giving my command much thought. Now, 40 lbs. may not seem like much, but 40 lbs. on a scent is determination. She pulled me so that my arm shot out and I leaned backwards to try to stop her. Just as I came to a more upright position and rounded the neighbor's greenhouse, we hit a mud slick. I went down like a stone. My entire backside was oozing, stinking mud. My girls cackled at me through the fence. Very funny.

Daisy kept coming back to the same bush, on the OTHER side of the fence, our side. Sure enough, the hen was there. Heaps of praise were given to Daisy. In case you may wonder if she were the murderer, think again. She is afraid of chickens for the most part, except when tracking which has less to do with the chicken than the game of finding, and she wouldn't even look at the chicken once she found it.