It hurts to lose a chicken you’ve lovingly raised from a cute, fluffy chick — to go out one morning and find Henny Penny mysteriously missing or worse, discover a shocking scene of bloody, feathery carnage. Not only does it hurt emotionally, but for those whose livelihoods depend on their flocks, it hurts financially, too. So it seems almost a sacrilege for me to confess the following.
Even though I adore my chickens and hate to sacrifice even one to a coyote or other wild thief, I don’t blame the predator for doing what predators do to survive. Furthermore, I refuse to take a lethal approach to retaliate for any depredations — with one exception. Blame it on my volunteer work at a zoo as a teenager and, later, a seven-year stint as a wildlife park keeper. Working around tigers, cougars, wolves, foxes, raccoon, eagles and other predators, I became completely enamored with these oft-maligned animals’ beauty, intelligence and strength — not to mention their critical role in nature, keeping prey populations in check. My deep affection for predators has lasted to this day.
Several species of raptors target feeders, not for the food offered there but for the birds that congregate to eat.
serkan mutan/shutterstock
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