Obviously sometime during the night an opossum decided to have a snack and could only manage to grab the head of the unlucky (or ignorant?) rooster that refused to go into the hut at night like the others. Either that, or he was lured out into the darkness by a sly-talking marsupial promising birdseed or impersonating a hen looking for love in the middle of the night (Paul's explanation, not mine).
As we'll never really know the exact story behind the beheading, I'm pretty certain that the culprit was in fact an opossum. I'm assuming this because the next evening I had baited the live trap with the leg of the beheaded and I had a fat and
I was wondering when we'd start getting the late-night, chicken-eating predators back in the area. Harley has been gone three weeks now and I figured the raccoon, opossum and bobcat brigade would eventually come wandering back once they realized there was no longer a threat. (Oh, I also have a pretty neat Harley story for tomorrow!)
That same morning, the remaining freaked-out roosters were put into a crate and hauled off to their new homes; it was either that or into our freezer. So now we are down to three juvenile roosters and one older rooster. We have twenty-four or so hens so I think that there's enough chicken booty to go around that the roosters won't have to fight much. I'll be keeping an eye out though; there may yet be chicken and dumplings on the menu.