It’s important to always count your chickens before bed. Forgetting this one lesson of chicken keeping can be the difference between life and death.
I always count the chickens before I shut the door for bed. Always.
Theyโre always all there. Always.
I donโt know what happened. Last night I didn’t count the chickens. I glanced into the coop and it looked like they were all there, so I shut the door and locked it.
Perhaps I was feeling lazy, maybe the complete lack of sleep Iโd been getting paired with the complete excess of energy my students have had wore me out to the point of utter exhaustion. It could be that I got so conditioned to the fact that the chickens always put themselves to bed and they’re always all there convinced me that everything would be fine whether I counted or not.
Whatever the excuse was, the point is that I learned an important lesson in keeping chickens.
After locking the door to the coop, I went inside, ate some dinner, watched a movie, went to bed, and awoke to another groggy, exhausted day.
It was dawn when I stumbled out the back door to feed the flock. I squinted through the hazy blue-gray light with my tired eyes and slowly poured the grainy chicken feed onto the ground.
I watched them contentedly. It was a warmish day (for December) and I had a moment to kill before heading into work. Sipping my coffee and watching the hens body slam each other to get to the best bits of food was as good a time waster as any.
It took a few minutes for my brain to recognize that something wasn’t right. What wasn’t right? The coffee hadn’t kicked in yet and at first I couldn’t place it.
Staring at the swirling mesh of feathery bodies, some pieces started coming together in my mind. The colors were off. The percentage of brown feathers to blond, gray and black wasn’t right. Someone was missing.
I quickly counted chickens. Thirteen. There were supposed to be fifteen. How could two hens be missing?!
Flinging open the door to the coop, I breathed a sigh of relief as I found Mokey glaring at me from the nest. Fourteen.
Where was number fifteen? Who was number fifteen?
I turned back to the run and glanced around again. It was clearly one of the newbies that was missing. A brown spangled Ameraucana, of which we have two. The missing hen has a cute little beard, and she’s my husband’s favorite.
The clock was ticking much too fast. A second search of the coop revealed no missing birds, just an angry Mokey yelling at me to get away from her nest.
I scanned the yard, hoping for some sign of her, even if it meant finding feathers or blood, at least it would be a clue as to where she went.
Nothing. Zip. Nada.
This wasn’t the first time a chicken has seemingly disappeared out of thin air, and I knew there was a chance she was still around, but I couldn’t spend another second looking for her without being late to work.
I spent the whole day wracking my brain as to where she’d disappeared to. The minute I got home I rushed out the back door to continue the search.
Nico and I searched the whole yard several times. Well, I searched the whole yard several times, Nico darted from tree to tree barking at squirrels and crows.
The first terrible thought was that predators must have gotten to her. It’s pretty common for chickens to disappear one day, carried off by a hungry, furry thing, never to be seen again.
Then again, here in the city, we don’t have many predator problems. While I know that predators are always lurking in the shadows, on this day there was absolutely no sign of having one on our property. No prints in the snow, no loose fencing, no droplets of blood or stray feathers. It was puzzling.
Thinking back on yesterday, I remembered that I had opened the door to let the chickens out, but they had been skeptical of wandering away from the coop. Chickens are not big fans of getting their dainty feet all cold and wet with snow, which was coating our yard like a giant fluffy blanket.
They had all spent the day huddled together just outside the door to the run. The snow in the yard was not only free of predator prints, it was free of chicken prints as well. If the missing hen had wandered away from home, there would be little tracks somewhere in the snow.
At this point I started to wonder if she was trapped somewhere and couldn’t get free. My heart broke at the thought of it.
Turning over wheelbarrows and peeking behind buckets, hoping to see her bearded face looking back at me, I was disappointed over and over again. The coop was subjected to a third thorough search to no avail.
A small voice in the back of my mind whispered:
check behind the coop.
The bigger voice at the front of my mind said:
Absolutely not. How would she even get back there? It’s blocked off. Don’t be stupid.
Check…check… the voice insisted.
It’s strange how when you’re frantically searching for something, or someone, all logic and level headed thinking disappear.
Your wandering eyes venture back to the same spots over and over again, hoping the lost item will suddenly appear there, and sometimes, magically, it does.
You look in impossible places and ignore obvious ones.
You wrack your brain thinking where could it be? Where could it be?! Then ignore the answers when they come.
All too often, I don’t listen to the little voice, the intelligent voice in the back of my mind that remembers everything and leaves no stone un-turned.
I came too close to ignoring it today. I was about to give up. To put my head in my hands and cry over another unnecessary homestead loss. There have been too many this year.
The persistent voice finally won over my indignant reasoning and I trudged over to the space where the coop meets the house. We’d closed this opening off years ago in an attempt to keep Nico out of the tight, barely twelve inch wide space.
I peered into the darkness over the embankment we’d made and when my eyes adjusted to the change, my heart leapt with joy.
There she was, crouched down on a pile of rubble, with cold water dripping on her back from the leaky gutters above. It looked as though she had jumped over the blockade sometime yesterday and not been able to find her way back. She’d been sitting there all night and all day.
She cooed and quietly stared up at me.
I cried. I felt horrible. If only I’d counted the birds last night like I always do, I could have found her sooner.
She didn’t struggle as I gently lifted her from her prison. She was stunned to be back in the real world. A world she would have never seen again.
Her youngest flock-mates came running from the yard to greet her and she shook the water from her soaked feathers. She was properly spoiled with a big dinner and black oil sunflower seeds for dessert.
When I tucked the birds in to bed tonight, you can bet I counted. And counted again. Little number fifteen was cuddled up with her friends, pleased as punch to be warm, and safe, and home.
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[sc name=”Meredith” ]
Oh my heart was in my mouth reading that story! I would be exactly the same! Maybe even calling in sick at work ๐ So glad you found her. Hooray for happy endings.
Hahaha I definitely considered calling in!
I really didn’t think that this post would have a happy ending, so glad you found her!
Me too! I would have been devastated if she’d been gone forever.
Great post and reminder. We all get lazy at times and that’s the one time something is amiss. I counted last night and came up one short as well. Truffle, our bantam, had wedged herself in between the coop wall and one of the wooden nesting boxes. Granted she was inside the coop but still…she was far more comfy once I released her from her self-imposed prison. Happy holidays! Lisa
Thanks Lisa! They really do get themselves into trouble don’t they? Thank you for sharing this on your page as well, your readers are so sweet, I’m loving meeting them! ๐
Yay! I am so glad she is saved and what a gorgeous bird she is. I’m glad you listened to your inner voice.
Me too! I always try to ignore it and it’s always right. When will I learn?
The same thing happened to us a few days ago. Sadly, she has not been found.
I’m sorry Kelly, that’s really tough. Hugs!
I have a total of 10 hens that are free-range in Barcelona, and do not have a predator problem where I live. About two months ago I did a count at night, and was missing one. Next morning I went down to the coop early, to get a recount and was still missing one hen. I searched everywhere for her and was unable to come up with any answer as to where she may have gone. After one week I gave up on her, resolved to never see her again. Unbelievably, two months after I first lost her, I did my evening count on the roost and there she was sitting with all the others, a total of 10. So, after two months of a missing chicken, she somehow returned to the rest of the flock and I was surprised and ecstatic. Sometimes miracles happen! She must have gone broody somewhere in the forest outside the confines of my yard. Glad she made it back.
Wow! That’s amazing! I’ve heard of hens disappearing for a month and coming back with a brood of chicks. Sometimes we don’t know what their reasons are. I’m so glad yours returned to you!
I had the same thing happen one day… Couldn’t find a missing chicken.. Next day I found an egg just laying next to the barn, out in the open. Confused, I picked it up and went on my way. Same thing the next day… And I decided to look up. About 10 foot up was a chicken butt… My little girl had wedged herself between two boards in the barn and couldn’t get unstuck… Needless to say, she was thrilled to see me
Hahahaha oh man that is too funny! I’m so glad you found her and got her unstuck! It probably would have taken me awhile to look up as well!
You should be a mystery writer. A story well told that had me on the edge of my seat and taught me a valuable lesson. Thanks.
Hahah thanks Karen!
I was so relieved for the happy ending! Definitely a story that many of us chicken keepers can relate to on some level.
I’d like to add that the beautiful bearded chicken is an Easter Egger and not an Ameraucana. Easter Eggers are a mixed breed and Ameraucanas are a pure breed of specific colorations. No flock is complete without colored egg-layers of some sort!
Thanks for the clarification Kendra! We got 6 “Ameraucana” chicks from the hatchery in the Spring and it’s very likely they’re indeed Easter Eggers. Either way, we love them and their beautiful eggs.
I am so glad you found her safe. I was so afraid she would never been found.my hens don’t free range.so we have multiple runs. All are covered to keep them safe. When I come in from work my husband and I go down and remove their feed. And we do a chicken count.
Great article! I’m a bit OCD about my counting, perhaps… but we do live in the country and we have had predator issues (hawks & raccoons).
So glad there was a happy ending!!
Thanks Leigh! I’m really glad we don’t have many predator issues here in the city, but things do still happen!
I do like this story . It is a good reminder too. Just when you think nothing different can happen
it does happen. It is never the same either. Chickens are so
delicate -fragile –so beautiful with their feathering -. Then something comes along to mess up their beauty and it upsets me . I keep at it trying to do a better job caring for them. I am always ready for something to happen because it will. We used to have bantams for 4-H and that seemed to go well (raising rabbits too) . Then I started on Standards and It was not as predictable for some reason. I figure I needed to learn a lot more. Right now there are 2 Astralorps ,2 Buff Orpingtons,
1 Wyandotte & 1 Hamburg that was at the SPCA– All getting along too. Thank goodness! Keep posting on Fresh Eggs Daily -Thank you too ๐
Thanks for the wonderful comment Jann! Those chickens are always throwing surprises at us, aren’t they?
Are these chickens we’re talking about? I’ve had chickens for 6 years. They’re great for laying eggs. I thought maybe this was an Amber alert…
I am a nighttime chicken counter as well. Especially of my Silkie girls. One night, one of them was missing. I hunted everywhere and she was not to be found. First thing the next morning and then later in the day, I hunted again. Nothing. The day after that I decided to clean my chicken shed. I stuffed some trash into an old grain bag… and the bottom moved. I quickly dug everything out and there she was, sitting on the bottom of the bag with a freshly laid egg right beside her. After a good shake of her feathers and a long drink of water she was on her way back to her buddies. Praise God!
Wow I’m so glad you found her! I love it when happy endings come at the end of scary stories! ๐
She looks just like mine! Glad you found her.
The same type incident happened to me the day after Thanksgiving. We kept all chickens and peafowl locked up on thanksgiving day while we had company. The next morning I went to let them out and noticed one missing. After a lot a searching I located her trapped between a coop and a wall – suspended about two feet off the ground and thankfully still alive but weak. Good news is she has recovered after a lot of pampering ๐ So yes counting is important . Tonight I tucked in 21 hens 2 roosters 1 peacock and 2 peahens ๐
Wow, that’s exactly the same! It’s crazy what kinds of places they can get lost and stuck in!
what a cute story and great lesson. I’m starting my own homestead and this is a great thing to have read since I do want to get a coue of chickens. Thanks so much for the share.
I’m so glad you found her! I’ve had similar experiences with cats (yep, I’m a crazy cat lady). I used to be a vet tech and we had a kitten given to the vet, who left it at the clinic. One Saturday, we were only open to noon, he disappeared. He never went outside but I looked anyway, I looked everywhere, repeatedly. I looked everywhere again when I went back in the evening for nightly treatments. No luck. I worried about him all night, then, at midnight, I woke up and just KNEW he was in the fridge. We had a sliding door fridge with a glass front. I drove into the clinic in my pj’s and there he was, curled up at the bottom of the fridge. He was happy to see me! He even got a new name, Popsicle! ๐
I can so relate to this story. When I first started keeping chickens, I missed the signs that one of my little hens was being bullied by the other girls. She went missing, I found her after searching ALL day – hiding in the bamboo patch. It’s a roller coaster ride of emotions! Lovely blog.
Thanks Liz! They certainly do like to send us searching don’t they? We had a hen that was being bullied and was hiding before too. The poor girl!