Just as I was clicking "Publish Post," Matt ran into the house in a panic. He could hear the last chicken being slaughtered in the barn. By the time I got my boots on and made it out there, Matt had a big raccoon cornered in the rafters.
He headed in for the .22, and I kept the raccoon in the rafters, but by the time he got back he couldn't get a decent shot. It eventually bounded off the roof and headed east.
The last chicken is dead.
We're getting a trap. This problem raccoon is not killing any more chickens.
How did it get in? A 2-inch gap way at the top of the roof. Apparently it burst through the chicken wire.
Let that be a lesson. I never would have expected that a raccoon could make it through such a small hole.
A hard day's work is a great thing. A hard day's labor in vain, only to find you've completely neglected the "one thing" you apparently should have done, makes a person (well, at least me) excessively bitter. I'm not sure I can be philosophical two days in a row.
A weasel might have met with amnesty. Sympathy for predator: withdrawn. Craigslist ad: also withdrawn (I did delete it).
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