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Well this is the finale of this series on predator attacks. At least at the moment. I’m hoping this coming Spring/Summer/Fall season will be less dramatic. Anyways, this is the story where you find out why we named one of our chickens Stupid Chicken. 🙂

During the day we let our chickens free range – even if we are gone – and Basil stays outside in his 10’x6′ kennel. Basil is a dog that loves to be outside and is much happier spending the day viewing the farm when we are not home than sitting inside with the cats.

One day last summer, I was coming home from work around lunch time and saw some hawks circling around the farm. I was a little nervous.

Typically when I pull in our driveway I have to start dodging chickens and honking at them so I can pull the car up to the house. However, this particular Friday no chickens were in site…As I pulled up to the house I saw chickens start to come out from under the truck and out from the bushes.  If they were all hiding, that means they got wind of the hawk flying over too.

I did what I always do and started counting chickens… you know how that goes… I got to 11 … again and then started to worry. I ran to the coop, maybe she was in there. Nope, nobody was in there. I quickly figured out which one was missing. It was the same chicken that we almost lost to the hawk in my last story (The luck of the draw 2 0f 3).

So, off I went, hunting around the house, since that’s where most of them were hiding. I texted Joe and he had said, “go get Basil, let him help you find her.” So I went around to the back of the house where Basil’s kennel was to let him out. As I got about 15 feet away from Basil, I saw a pile of feathers at the edge of the brush back into the forest.

“Here we go again! I can’t believe it!!” There is no way this little hen would be lucky enough to survive two hawk attacks! I knew I’d be looking for a pile of chicken scraps this time.

So I let Basil out of his kennel and he immediately ran to the front of the house to the chicken coop. “Guess I’m on my own searching for her.” As I continued through the thicket I heard a rustling and some squawking. For God’s sakes! Out came my chicken with Basil right behind her! He flushed her out of her hiding spot! Unbelievable! She ran and hid under the truck.

As I crawled around on  my belly on the blacktop, I noticed there was blood splatter on her toes and legs. Crap, she’s hurt. Between Basil and I, we flushed her out from under the truck and I was able to grab her.

She had a slice in her chest that was bleeding pretty well. I pulled her into the garage washtub sink and cleaned her up and sprayed ointment all over her.


She cooed and cawed while I treated her wound. It was such a sweet little noise she made. I absolutely adored taking care of her 🙂 I think she was grateful for the cleanup.

So this chicken, now surviving two hawk attacks is called Stupid Chicken. Ironically, she’s probably a smart chicken if she’s managed to escape death twice. But she was stupid enough to get herself into trouble twice too. She doesn’t listen to the Rooster’s warning crows and she’s often the last one in the coop at dusk. She also wanders away from the flock all the time – making her self a prime target.

Thanks again to Basil for flushing her out of the woods! I guarantee that if this attack hadn’t happened so close to his kennel, Stupid Chicken would not have survived. I’m sure Basil started barking when he witnessed it!