The neighbor's 2 dogs escaped this morning and in front of Rob who was shouting and spraying it with water and the owner calling them, one of the dogs took off with one of the 2 month old Rhode Island Red rooster chicks I had bought myself for Christmas in it's mouth.
Why do I feel like I should be singing this to a country tune?
The irony was that it was the husband of the neighbor that told me Monday we couldn't keep the goats. Rob -in his frustrated anger and not knowing it was that neighbor- commented about us having to get rid of baby goats yet dogs that are causing harm are allowed.
The dogs took off with their bounty. The neighbor followed after them. Then he came back a few minutes later cradling a half dead baby rooster in his arms. He's offered to pay for it but it's the principle of the thing. It's another nail our confining coffin of country life. The wee rooster is in a clean nest under the heat lamp with water near the tip of his beak. He won't stand and won't drink after a couple hours resting. I have little hope for the poor thing. Even if he was destined at a later date to become dinner, he still shouldn't have to suffer being mangled by a beast twenty times it's size. He should have had another half a year at least and gone out with a quick humane death. I'm seeing what happens in the next few hours. It breaks my heart but we may have to put him down.
Now we have to invest hundreds into fencing for the chickens now that the dogs know where the fast food drive thru is unless we're ready to accept more chicken losses.