Life and Death Living In The Country

So often, people comment to me, "It must be peaceful living in the country where nothing ever happens."  That's when I know that, if they ever think of moving out of the city, they need to do their due diligence.  This morning was just such an example. 

A few days ago I blogged about the arrival of Headlight, our new bull calf out of Dot, herd matriarch.

I didn't mention that we had some other babies on the place, 8 chicks that we'd been raising for a few weeks from tiny little fluffballs.  An assortment of four breeds, they make quite the colorful little flock to add to our rooster and hens that we've had for a while.  They've been in a special "chick house" inside the coop; yesterday I decided they were large enough to be released into the coop itself.  All went well - the rooster only threatened one, and that was more in the lines of establishing who was in charge of the coop and the flock. 

This morning, I went in to check on everyone. I found one dead chick - at first I thought that the rooster had been overly aggressive in establishing his place in the pecking order.  Then I realized that another chick could not be found.  I got a flashlight to do a search, and that's when I noticed the very lethargic, very fat rat snake curled up in the back corner of the coop.  Evidently there was an opening large enough for a rat snake to get in, but small enough that a rat snake containing a chick could not get OUT.  I hadn't thought the chicks were still small enough that they were snake fodder, but evidently I was wrong.

Having already had the experience of shooting a .22 in a metal chicken coop some years ago, I was not eager to repeat the experience (couldn't hear well for hours), so I went and informed my husband of what I'd found.  With the use of a long plastic pole with a rope threaded through it, noose fashion, he caught the snake and pulled it out and used a hatchet on it. (I'll share the place and a few eggs with rat snakes, but not chickens; I do have my limits.) 

Then, I repaired the hole in the chicken coop where the snake evidently got in (there's alway something needing repair, it's a fact of life living out here), finished morning chores, and went in to start my day as a real estate agent.

That was before breakfast, as this "boring, quiet day in the country started".  Not a common occurrence, but not the first time this has happened, either.  Just another day living with the critters around us.