The long sad story of John's chicken flock.

Summer before last John built a chicken hutch. It was deluxe with a protective screen door, roosts, and egg laying boxes.

John got six hens ( three white and three black) and a colorful batam rooster.

Pretty flock and a lot of company. Here is a white hen at my feet.

The chickens will greet you, check to see what you are doing, and talk to you. I had no idea that chickens could be such pets. They laid up to six eggs a day,

Then the flock began to diminish. A black hen was found in the woods, headless. John tired of the amount of cleaning and gave three hens and the rooster away. Egg production fell to three a day from the two black and one white hen John kept. Then a black hen dissappeared. (Fox?) Production fell to rwo eggs a day. Then the white hen started to moult and stopped laying. Production fell to one egg a day.

Last night, disaster. John had forgotten to hook the hutch screen door shut. About one in the morning John was awaken by a loud chicken yell. He went out and found both chickens gone! We were both blue. After a year and a half we were used to the chickens. We assme that a fox was the villian.

Oh Boy! About ten am the white hen came out of the woods.

Poor old moulting hen. She told me all about the terrible night that she and the poor black hen had gone through.

John's chicken flock is amost back to square one.