The fox got Whitey today. She was our favorite chicken by far, with her penchant for squatting down to let us pet her, and her crazy flying abilities. She was the chicken whose wings I clipped to keep her from flying out of our chicken yard, and who managed to fly to the other side anyway. She was the one that liked to roost on our fence, just to let everyone know she was there. She didn't pick on the other hens or get bossy, and she never got broody.
Whitey, the essence of chickenhood, felled by the fox.
It is a sad day.
We're reinforcing our chicken protection measures and are hoping that the remaining 5 girls fare better. Turns out it WAS a good thing we got baby chicks this spring.
