The Day I Saved Hennie

7:50 am starts my four hours of "somewhat" peace in the house.  I've gotten my Kindergartner off to school so that leaves only the four yr old and one yr old.  The house is surprisingly quite when one boy doesn't have the other one to fight with. 

It was a brisk morning walk to the bus stop this morning.  A cup of coffee in one hand, the hand of my six yr old in the other.  I really enjoy the five to ten minutes Im outside with him.  I love the cool fresh morning air.  The bus comes, he walks on while turning around no less then five times to tell me bye and he loves me, then they drive away.  On the way back up to the house I stop and check our hens nest (a pile of rope in the corner of the garage that she has claimed since the coons found her previous nest in the barn and stole her eggs everyday) and I collect my egg for the day.  I look out into the pasture and see only lone rooster and hen pecking away and I wonder how much longer they will be with us.

We started with 16 chickens total about 2yrs ago.  Slowly they have dwindled in numbers due to the many coons, weasels, and hawks that inhabit our little mountain home.  We are left with our two survivors, Jonny the Rooster and Hennie.  That wasn't her given name but since her four sisters died, Amy, Beth, and Jo, it didnt seem right to have Meg with out them so I started calling her Hennie. 

Jonnie proudly and faithfully starts his wake up call at 4am. Some days I'd like to shoot him, but then I think about the day I almost lost Hennie and I know I will miss him terribly when he's gone.

About two weeks ago, I got up just at day light. staggered downstairs to the kitchen and started heating the water for my tea. I heard this terrible screaming sound. What in the world?  So I open up the back door and look out into the yard.  I see Jonny and Hennie strutting right into the edge of the woods just cackling and screeching away. Whats wrong with them?  There must be a coon or weasel after them.  Just then a red tailed hawk came swooping right past me and up into a tree overlooking them. OMG, that hawks after my chickens.  I stood there frozen with fear. What am I gonna do?  Jonny and Hennie continued walking and screeching through the woods. Just as they exited the woods and into the edge of the yard, that hawk swooped down on them again. I screamed. He flew back up into a tree.  I took off running through the house screaming "get the gun, get the gun".  I have no idea who I was talking to since the only people awake were my children sitting on the couch watching their "toonies".  As I skidded past them towards the closet where I keep my shotgun, my "socked" feet when sliding out from under me on the hard wood floor and I crashed onto my left side. I lay there in terrible pain. "Ouch" I said. Then the adrenaline kicked back in and I jumped up, grabbed the gun from the closet, and ran back outside.  I ran up through the yard in my stocking feet till I saw that hawk, aimed the gun, and squeezed the trigger.  Now mind you, I had never shot that gun before (or any gun bigger then a .22 before).  I heard crashing through the branches and I "think" I got him. 

I turned back to the house huffing and puffing to see my husband (who had still been sleeping) and children standing at the door looking at me like went mad.  "What the heck are you doing?" He asked.  "A hawk was trying to get the chickens!" I screeched.  "Good Job Annie"  He said. 

He went in search of the body, but couldn't find it. I was disappointed because that meant I probably missed.  But one thing is for sure, had I not went on the attack, Hennie would've been breakfast for that hawk for sure.
So that's the story of me saving my chickens.  I know its just a matter of time before that hawk or another one probably gets them but I feel pretty darn good about being the hero for that day anyway.