While I was cursing my stupidity for icing my hydrant into a miniglacier, I fed the chickens. Our chickens are pretty good about “coming home to roost” every evening. (With the exception of Fluffy and her small band of Resistance Chickens. They stay outdoors 24/7 and clearly intend to live free or die trying. I grok that!)
I’d let the laying flock out of the coop in the morning At the time they were all accounted for. Now, at sunset, only two had showed up. Where the hell were the rest of them?
Still dragged out with an illness and thinking with only a dozen brain cells I waved a flashlight around and prowled the vicinity. I was looking for either chickens or carcasses. Amid the wind and gloom I found neither.
Eventually I bumped into Fluffy. Instead of her usual perch in a tree behind the house she was hunkered down in our decrepit barn (which was rocking and swaying in the relentless wind). If she’d been in the tree she’d probably have to cling to it for dear life. Good thinking on Fluffy’s part to relocate. I heard an angry quack and noticed Bowling Pin Chicken (a duck) was there too. So that’s where he went when his water froze? Not bad. I spied one of Fluffy’s battle hardened resistance chickens hunkered down with one of the AWOL laying hens. Fraternizing eh? Well enough of that! I scooped up both of them (leaving Fluffy and Bowling Pin). I’d toss them both into the coop and leave the rest to fate.
Where did the missing chickens go? I have no idea. Perhaps the brutal wind confused them (or blew them to the next county)? Maybe a coyote ate ’em?
It’s a mystery.