Observations about the tiny town I live in

[Glinda]

Butchie the crowing hen is dead; thankfully, Marlon the door-attacking rooster survived, but he and the third yardbird (Chee-Chee) are now terrified and will probably never get over it.

I wasn't home when it happened. I saw the piles of feathers when I got back and there were no chickens to be found, so I assumed they'd been grabbed by a hawk or owl. Spent the evening mourning my poor lost pets...

The next morning, I walked out the door and saw a strange dog in my yard so I chased it back to the house on the lot next door. New renters had moved in a week or so earlier and here she was, in her yard. I approached and asked her to please keep her dog on a chain at all times, as I had pet free-range chickens and they had just been killed the night before (so far as I knew at the time).

As it turns out, the neighbor's dog was the culprit. She told me that she had let her dog run free the previous night (I mean, what could possibly go wrong?), that he'd been in my yard the and she had heard him barking and growling and my chickens squawking....heard the whole thing while it went down. Did she come to my place to find out what her asshole dog had done? Maybe leave a note for me? No. Nothing. Not at all.

WTF? Seriously?

So I raced back to my place, hoping and praying that my birds might have gotten away and hidden somewhere overnight. Found Marlon cowering in the garage, all his tail feathers torn out. Chee-Chee was there with him, but she was ok (she can fly quite well - must have escaped that way). Butch was under a bush near an outbuilding, badly torn and bloody. Still breathing.... barely. No hope for her, sadly.

I hate people who can't (or won't) control their fucking dogs.

RIP Butchie