About two weeks ago I had to hang up the shotgun by the front door (don't worry, it's always well out of Rhiannon's reach and locked) because the hawks have been hanging around. Not sure if it's because it's mating season, but I've seen four of them at the same time all flying around the homestead and crying like crazy. Like all stinking day. But even the noise from buckshot isn't deterring them from their constant fly-bys. I'm attributing the loss of at least one hen to them.
We have a light on for the chickens that I turn on just before dusk to encourage them to go into the coop. This is also how we trained our new chickens to go in for the night; go into the light! I'm not always out there right after dark, not only because one chicken refuses to go into the coop until it's pitch black outside, but sometimes I'm busy and don't get around to closing the chicken door until well after dark. Last night was one of those nights. Cleaning up from a late supper kept me inside until almost nine o'clock. I finally got outside to close the chicken door and when I spun around to go back inside, I was startled by an opossum walking right at me! (I'm not sure who startled whom as I only had a t-shirt and unmentionables on.....yeah, like you've never gone outside at night in your skivvies.) It's not like he couldn't see me, I had my handy-dandy headlamp on and was shining it right on him. The little bugger sidestepped me and continued towards the chicken door!
Of course, I didn't have a sidearm on my person as my Lady Fruit of the Looms don't have a built-in holster, so I did what any other homesteader protecting her flock would do. I reached down, picked up a fairly heavy rock, and bashed his little marsupial brain out. Barbaric? Sure was. And I do feel badly for it. I would have much rather his end come by the way of a .22, but a farm gal does what a farm gal has to do, right? Right. I still feel pretty crappy about it.
So what's up with the title of this blog, and what does it have to do with hawks and opossums eating - or attempting to eat - our backyard chickens? Well, dear reader, let me tell you!
I must have gone to bed harboring guilty feelings because I had the weirdest dream last night. I was in the hallway of my high school (so I guess this could be considered a nightmare then) and everyone was running out of the gymnasium. I asked the hall monitor (remember those???) what was up and she said that there was a rabid raccoon loose and nobody knew what to do. I said that I could handle any old stinky raccoon and went to find my quarry. It was a huge poodle-raccoon like thing and it was pissed! It kept coming at me, and like any good nightmare, I wasn't able to get away. It kept biting at my moccasins and I was afraid I was going to get rabies. Why I was wearing moccasins, I haven't the slightest. Now that I think about it, they may have been the only thing I was wearing. I remember trying to climb bookcases to get away, but it kept coming at me. I finally ended up crushing it's head with a huge bottle of perfume that I found on top of that bookcase.
Whew. I feel much better knowing that I have that off my chest. Well, not really.
Anybody want to take a jab at what the "meaning" of that dream meant?? Besides the fact that I'm just nuts.
|This raccoon is drop-dead gorgeous compared to mine.|
Wonder if Stephen King would want the screenplay for this one? I'm telling you, that freaky looking clown's got nothing on my poodle-raccoon.