It’s a chicken door, so our chickens can go outside during the day and not have to spend all day inside their coop.
Normally, Little Dude and I lock it up at night when we do head count, and thus ensure that whatever sneaksy nighttime predators their are don’t think that it’s an open invitation to snack on our birds.
Yesterday, I went down to the barn, as usual. Opened the front door, and as usual, called out my greeting of ‘good-morning, peepy chicks!” Yes, I know that most of them aren’t chicks who say “peep” any more, but they ALL grew up hearing me say it, so it’s custom.
What wasn’t ‘as usual’ was the reaction I was greeted to – 14 very agitated chickens in the coop. Abigail, as the oldest hen and self-appointed boss, leading the list of complaints in her most bossiest of Boss Voices.
Something was wrong.
The something was quickly noticeable. The door – as seen in this non-related pictured – had been left open ALL Night.
It had been windy and cold, and that coop had been exposed. ALL night.
Which, quite frankly, I am at a loss to explain because Little Dude and I, plus DH, went down there as is our norm, and were in and out of the coop 3 times the night before. Little Dude went around back, brought in the treat dish. He usually locks the coop door then.
We all missed it, and I don’t know how.
Abby didn’t care about ‘how’ we missed it. Just that we did. She yelled at me while I recounted heads and checked that everyone was safe and unharmed.
She yelled at me while I checked that no flying birds or anything else unpleasant had invaded the coop and might still be there.
She yelled at me while I took the treat dish and filled it (I give them a scoop or two of feed with a little scratch on top to go outside with, one a day).
She yelled at me while I took the treat dish outside into the run.
We screwed up and she wanted me to know about it.
Well, yes, we did screw up. Anything could have gotten into the coop and attacked our chickens. Nothing did, thank goodness. But I definitely could have been met by something much worse than a scolding hen.