Poor Flo

So last night…

On my way out to lock the girls in for the night, I could hear one of them basically ‘screaming’. I knew a raccoon was in the coop going after the eggs only to find Flo, whose gone broody and won’t get off the eggs/out of the box. On one if the rare nights I didn’t have a flash light I grab the recently broken shovel head and banged it on concrete…while screaming down the hill to the chickens that I was on my way, then ran back in the house to get the flashlight. With flashlight in left hand and shovel head in right, I ran down the hill…yelling choice words until I got to the metal garage cans that store the food and without stopping swung the shovel so the lid went flying off…making a horrible racket.
Well…Now I’m looking in and around the coop and I see black feathers everywhere and five freaked girls still on their roost. I see no raccoon, no Flo. Gosh Darn Bleep Bleep!

Good thing it’s been hot here…I assume neighbors had their windows close and A/C running because I did not get any calls or visit from the po-po.
I may have been a bit dramatic…

And then there were 5….

But wait….
Who do I see…In the dark, under the trampoline, face bleeding…Flo, lucky stupid half face chicken.

So I apparently scared the raccoon off before I went in to get the flashlight, but not before it grabbed Flo by the face.

My weapon

1) I hate raccoons
2) Chickens are stoopid

1 thought on “Poor Flo

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