Death comes to the sleeping

I don't know that such a long lapse in blogging is excusable, but for what it's worth I've been caught up in something which should soon bear fruit. When it does, I'll have a lot more to say.

Before dawn today, our chickens were visited by a marauder (what sort, we know not). It killed one, leaving it headless and disemboweled, and injured the leg of another. We lost a chicken outside, in daylight, last week. A month before that, we lost our best duck without a single feather of evidence left behind.

Today's attack was different. It took place in the safety of a closed and latched coop. There were no obvious areas of entry for the predator, which made me wonder if it was something skinny—perhaps a fisher, like the ones in yonder marsh. It left me feeling broken-hearted for our chickens, who must have been startled awake by the attack. What a terrible thing, to be accosted on your roost!

Otherwise, the animals are well. Fenway's unexplained weight loss has me a bit troubled, but I have had some good advice from his veterinarians and am expecting to schedule another exam next week. Our new cockatiel, Kevin, is the best thing since sliced bread and Clover is looking beautifully shiny, healthy, and slim on a new, veterinarian-recommended diet of Merrick's canned food and rolled oatmeal.

The best news? My oldest daughter, who lives in two households, is coming home tomorrow!