After no sightings of raccoons in a couple of weeks — not since the one was found dead along side the road — I separated out the pullet juvies from the butcher birds in the grow out pen, and moved them up top. Everyone needed space, and the pullets don’t need meat bird feed.
I moved nineteen chicks up to the big run last night. Nineteen.
There are four alive today.
The raccoon(s) apparently came back, and demolished four of the chicks, and I do mean “demolished.” Shredded to bits.
The other ELEVEN they just killed and left where they killed them. Some were on the far side of the pen, so they were chased there. And just killed, for no reason. (But, yes, please tell me about how only humans kill for pleasure. Fuck wits.)
For obvious reasons, I have recaptured the remaining four pullets and moved them back to the grow out pen.
The live traps haven’t worked. I don’t know what to do right now. I have the pen as tight as I can make it and, you know, actually go in and out myself.
Husband’s at an event selling. We’ll be discussing how to deal with the problem when he gets home in a few hours. I have ideas, but since nothing I’ve done has actually WORKED … I don’t know.