Quiet in the coop.

We have one chicken left now (Audrey) and two Guinea hens (Dottie and Jeanie). All three of them have been inside the coop all day long, and they've been extremely quiet. I went in there first thing this morning and felt so sick to my stomach that I had to rush out. The thought of a hawk ripping apart my chickens, especially Dolly, just will not leave my head.

We chose to keep the birds inside the coop today, and probably for the next couple of days as well. I saw two hawks flying over our neighbors' properties this morning...... soaring, circling, searching. If I had a gun, and if I knew how to shoot the dang thing, I would have probably been out there in our pasture, screaming at those hawks and trying my best to blast them out of the sky. You took my Dolly-girl! She was such a sweet hen and you ate her up!

But we don't have a gun. And I don't know how to use one. And even if I did, I most likely could not point it at any living, breathing creature with the intention of doing harm.

We will probably go to Watson's farm this weekend and buy two more chickens. Just two, who hopefully will give us little warm miracles in the nesting boxes every day. I will get another red hen, who will look similar to Dolly. (Dolly-Two? Dolly-Girl?) Maybe two red hens. (Dolly-Three?) The Rhode Island Reds are such a sweet breed of chicken, so friendly and inquisitive.

Or maybe I should just get two chickens and not name them at all. I don't think I could do that. I'm not a chicken-farmer. We're not raising these birds to end up in a deep-fryer. (We're not raising them to be eaten by hawks, either.)

This afternoon when we got back from our walk, there was one bright reddish-auburn feather standing up straight in the grass, as if it had been planted there. Today is a very windy day. That feather, by all rights, should have blown further up the hill with all this wind. But there it was, in front of the cottage, as plain as day for me to see. I picked it up and then started looking for more of Dolly's feathers. My husband stopped me... told me I was going to make myself more sick about this than I already am. And he's right. I let go of the feather and the breeze took it away.

Stupid damn hawks.