We got about a foot of snow yesterday.
It started around 10:00 a.m. and continued well past 10:00 p.m. By any account, that’s a decent amount of snow in a relatively short period of time.
The pigs were utterly unfazed, the goats took it all in stride, and the bees have hunkered down for the winter. The entire chicken world, however, was utterly and completely rocked.
I cannot get used to how poorly equipped chickens are for any change of any kind, ever.
At Closing Time, Dave went out to shut the coops for the night, only to discover that several chickens seemed to have made other sleeping arrangements for the night. Worst of all, Molly and her cockerel nowhere to be seen. Dave said that at least three hens had parked themselves in the garage for the night. They undoubtedly took one look at the endless terrain of heavy, wet snow in the 100 yards they had to travel and decided that they were perfectly fine amid the bales of hay and myriad piles of debris that is our garage.
While Dave is a nice enough guy and all, he seemed content to let things be. As far as the Garage Chickens were concerned, I agreed with him. They really were warm enough and dry, and that one in the rafters was certainly out of harm’s way.
It was the others that had me worrying.
So I went out to see whether I could find her.
One of the hens had decided that, rather than trek the short distance to the coop through the snow, she would hunker down under the steps under the deck.
This particular hen earned my unfettered disdain because she was MAYBE 30 feet from the coop and could easily have made it there and was just being an idiot.
So I left her there.
Then, I continued my search for Molly and her cockerel. Dave had a feeling they might have ended up in one of the goat sheds, so I headed down that way to look.
And that’s when I saw him.
Just around the back of the coop, Molly’s boy was hunkered, shivering and alone, on the wrong side of the coop wall. It was totally heartbreaking.
He was completely out in the open, vulnerable and alone, covered in icy snow. I got him back into the coop and then went to find Molly.
Luckily, she was totally fine (although undoubtedly shaken and confused) on the hay in the goat shed. She and her babe were reunited in the coop and I was able to head in for the night with a little more peace of mind.
Dave shoveled the obligatory chicken paths this morning to ensure that all the little feathered morons can make it from point A to point B without trauma.