25 degrees, frost so thick it could have snowed during the night except for the brittle clarity of a diamond studded sky and a moon casting shadows.
Stretching, I debated: go out now and get it over with or have a cup of coffee, check emails and wait until I can see better. Yes, sunrise it is.
PervBird’s morning screeching reminded me to get my butt in gear. I could hear the tin cups on the cage bars as Mr Bob got testy about the crappy service. Rinsing out my cup, I glanced out the kitchen window and saw…
NO!!! Those f**kers can climb!
Jr Rooster was on the top of the fence—at 6’6” relatively high enough but I couldn’t be sure it was enough to keep Reynard out. Jr’s cluckin’ ‘n struttin’, all ‘Ooo, I’ve got this one, ladies.’
I set a record getting dressed and out the garage door. Demon Cat and Mr Tom were waiting for me, just outside the door, tails poofed. I ran to the fence screeching like a banshee. Reynard halted in his tracks and glared, GLARED, at me. Then he trotted off nice as you please, and with a flick of his gorgeous tail he said, “I’ll be back.”
Oh, you sumbitch, you are going down…
Demon Cat and Tom followed me to the barn. DC set up sentry duty at the barn door while Tom settled by the tack shed. The boys had my back while I checked on the Hens from Hell. I flipped Jr Rooster off the top of the fence, back into the pen. Two of the red hens had taken shelter in one of the boxes, the rest were bug-eyed and insane with fear.
Not sure she’s gonna make it. Damn.
I needed to settle them fast so I raked up loose hay from the mow and gave them a pile to scratch through – and fresh water since their bucket frozen overnight.
Time to go shopping.