Bye-bye chickens. The foxes had a meal.

[reedrover]

For those of you playing along with the farm game, I regret to report that the three chickens have met their end. The various explosions of feathers in the front yard are my main evidence; the lack of any chicken coming home is the supporting evidence.

I will likely not replace the chickens until the spring. They were a good experience, but I can easily admit that they were a pain to care for during snow and shocking cold temperatures.