Lil’Peckers Update: And then there were 28. Or 29, maybe?

We have approximately one million egg layers living on the farm right now. There are still 10 weeks or so until they start making omelet supplies. That might give us enough time to prepare for what’s comin’ to us.

Last year, with seven birds (RIP in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritūs Sancti …) we were provided with more than enough eggs. With 30, things could get interesting. It’s a good thing that mother nature is already slimming our supply for us.

Of the 30 chickens we have left, (give or take — we might actually just keep counting the same 12 birds over and over again) there were a total of four that I would notice if they went missing. This is mainly because we have one rooster (that we know of), one weird white bird, one brown layer that’s bigger than everybody else and one bird that I love most of all.

This bird is one of two survivors of the original Lil’peckers 2009 series. Remember that great tragedy? When the cat came back and ate, like, $60 in tiny chick-sized bites? There was a lot of F-words?

Two survived that most heinous attack, and one of those chickens loved me. While the others cower in fear, she runs right up to me and jumps ON MY LAP like a freakin’ c-a-t.

This is the theme song for the rest of this post. Please play for optimal Teet user experience:

Of the THIRTY BIRDS — more than 20 of them boring and regular, guess which one the cat ate last week at some point during the day?

Do I even have to say it?

We decided to let them free-range during the day. While we were away at work. Feral cat is not nocturnal when we are not home, I’m guessing. Unless it was a hawk of something. Either way, this is a traumatizing thing to come home to. One I’m sure our daughter will grow to love.


“Mom? Where’s my favorite chicken? The only one I cared about?”

Oh, crap.

I’m not going to make friends with these chickens anymore.

I’m going to enjoy doing weird things to this cat one day.

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  • Rachel

    This little post with video accompaniment was the perfect start to a Monday. Again, sorry for your loss. How much would you LOVE to be putting that cat in the cannon and handing it a catnip scented bomb?

    Oh, and feel free to send some of that pesto my way.