This morning as I went out to feed the chickens, I saw white feathers scattered all over the ground. One of our chickens had been attacked during the night. Something had reached in through the wire fence and tried to eat it. What was left of it was laying in the dirt, covered in flies.
Another one, which we think is a rooster, is pretty scratched up. There is dried blood matted into the feathers around his neck.
I just stood there, shaking, staring at the crime scene.
I know this animal was just looking for a meal. I know this is a natural part of life and death. It was just unsettling to see it in my backyard.
I called my husband. "It was probably a coyote." His words did not bring me any comfort. I know there are many animals in these woods that are capable of this, but I have not wanted to think of them wandering around and hunting where my children play.
I am scared. I don't feel safe. I am saddened because we have raised these chickens since they were tiny balls of fluff. They are my babies, and I couldn't protect them.
But God is good. We had made plans for our neice to spend the night, but then our two oldest decided to sleep over her house instead. If they had been here I know they all would have run out there first thing in the morning and been the ones to discover it.
I am not going to hide the reality of life and death from my children. I can't lie to them. But I am so thankful that God protected their little eyes.