The Henhouse Heist

On a beautiful June Sunday morning in rural Maryland, families were waking up in their homes, enjoying breakfast together, and basking in the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling. It was an idyllic scene for most. But for the Berube family, this morning came with an unexpected twist. Just before breakfast, we discovered four beloved family members lying in their beds with necks snapped, eyes wide open, and mouths frozen mid-scream. To add to the chaos, four more were missing. It seemed that even in the countryside, murder most fowl could strike when you least expect it.

Before you settle in for a “whodunit” true crime mystery, I need to clarify that this story is about chickens. My second batch of chickens, to be precise. The first batch, affectionately known as the Starter Chickens, met their untimely end courtesy of our mini golden doodle (he’s cute but ferocious), a fox, and a coyote. After each attack, we summoned the neighborhood brain trust to brainstorm solutions to fortify the outdoor pen around the coop. Each time, we’d make modifications: raising the fence height, adding bat netting across the top, spraying fox urine around the perimeter (gross), and even discussing electrifying the fence. The latter would have been brilliant, but our dogs are as dumb as they are ferocious and would have perished by shocking themselves repeatedly.

DALL-E Prompt: “Create a cartoon image of a mini golden doodle, a fox, and a coyote discussing strategies to break into a chicken coop.”

So, when we decided to get the second batch of chickens, we believed we had mitigated all risks after the Starter Chickens debacle and were ready to try again. We selected eight of the cutest baby hens Tractor Supply had to offer. My son named them Hot, Cold, Peck, Meck, Blondie, Batgirl, That One, and That Other One (creativity is exhausting for a 5 year old).

At this point in the story, you’re probably wondering why I’m going to such lengths to tell you about murdered chickens. Well, aside from my inherent flair for the dramatic, there’s a lesson in this tale of poultry peril. You see, after securing our fortress of cluckitude with what we thought was an impenetrable defense system, we were confident that this batch would lead long, egg-laying lives. But fate, with its twisted sense of humor, had other plans.

Despite our efforts, which included ordering fox urine from Amazon (that begs the question: how do they harvest this?), we awoke that fateful morning to find feathers strewn about like confetti at a morbid parade, and the once lively coop now eerily silent. The Houdini of predators, a fox we caught on the security cameras, had struck again, leaving us scratching our heads and wondering if the fox urine (again, how?) may have come from a female fox in heat, attracting the predator instead of deterring it.

So, why am I regaling you with this grim saga? Because sometimes, no matter how prepared you think you are, life—or in this case, nature—reminds you that it’s full of surprises, no matter how diligently you plan for an expected outcome. And occasionally, those surprises come with feathers, fangs, and a few life lessons:

Lesson One: Never underestimate the cunning of your adversaries. Whether they are competitors in the market or predators in your backyard, assuming your strategies will always work flawlessly can lead to unexpected and often unpleasant results. Stay in the problem, spend a lot of time thinking through all possible outcomes, and design your solutions with adaptability and vigilance.

Lesson Two: Embrace the unpredictability of life. While meticulous planning is essential, being able to pivot and learn from unforeseen events is just as crucial. The real skill lies in turning setbacks into opportunities for growth and new strategies.

Lesson Three: Remember that resilience is built through these experiences. Each challenge, even one as bizarre and disheartening as losing chickens to a crafty fox, adds to your reservoir of strength and wisdom. It's in these moments of chaos that true character and innovative solutions emerge.

After losing two batches of chickens, what’s next for my farm animal endeavors? If you’ve been following along with my posts, you know by now that there’s a business opportunity in every situation. After the latest massacre, I’ve decided to take a break from poultry parenting and direct my efforts towards an exciting new venture: Cluck Norris Coop Security (CNCS), named after our beloved rooster who fought valiantly against a coyote and ultimately perished in battle. Providing “Egg-stra Security for Your Peace of Mind,” CNCS will specialize in advanced, predator-proof coop designs. Think motion sensors, 24/7 surveillance, and maybe even a coop-guarding robot modeled after a Terminator that shoots blow darts. I’ll leverage all the hard-won lessons from the bloodied feathers of our dearly departed hens to ensure that other chicken owners won’t have to face such fowl fates.

The fox may have won this round, but we’ll be back, armed with technology, creativity, and learnings from failure, ready to outwit our cunning foes.

DALL-E Prompt: “Create a billboard advertisement for Cluck Norris Coop Security - Egg-stra security for your peace of mind.”