We bought our chickens almost two years ago for a couple of euros each. We decided that three would be enough but got four because we were sure that they wouldn’t all make it. Since then four healthy chickens have given us 1750 eggs and, of course, we’ve become a little attached to our galinhas (as did my Dad!). We’ve also got used to their clucking after they’ve laid an egg and turned a deaf ear to their complaining from the bramble bushes when it’s been too hot. But yesterday afternoon one of them was making a right racket – not usual at all. She was in the connecting field to the one where their house is and calmed down a bit when I came out; I didn’t worry too much that I could only see three. But when she carried on squawking after I left we decided something was up. Richard went into the field and sadly, under the brambles, he found a headless chicken. No wonder there was so much noise, she hadn’t wanted to pass her sister to get back home. We now noticed the feathers everywhere and I hoped she’d been attacked quickly.

This morning the remaining three were rather reticent to leave their caged run let alone go into the next door field, something they usually do first thing. What to do? We decided that the third field, empty now except for a house and run because the ‘roasties’ had all been dispatched, would be the perfect option. It doesn’t connect to the exterior stone wall, it’s a little nearer the house, and the olive tree gives good shade. So that was all cleaned and re-strawed and the hens found themselves a new home.

So what was it? Not a fox, it would have killed all four and there would’ve been more carnage. Richard reckons an Egyptian mongoose (we’ve seen them here) or some kind of weasel. No doubt it’ll be back for a second helping of hen head but right now they’re locked away (with much complaining) and will be earlier in the day now until, I hope, the enemy gives up. RIP Pecky!