My blood is boiling. I walked out to the barn yesterday afternoon to gather eggs in the hen house. It's a normal undertaking each afternoon after 5 pm. I get the egg basket that hangs on a nail on the rafters of the barn and enter the hen house. I always look carefully before grabbing eggs. The other day there was a large chicken snake that had devoured an egg. If he would have just stuck to eating rats, I would simply leave him alone. But when they eat eggs, they've crossed the line. A quick strike with a shovel liberated his head and erased an egg-eater.
This particular afternoon there was no snake, but there was a dead chicken. This happens from time to time. As the Good Book says, "It is appointed for men to die once..." Apparently, it is appointed for chickens to die once, too.
I rounded the barn and walked in the shady area near the goat barn and there was a big fat hen. She was dead, too! No marks that I could see, but this is more than a coincidence. Near the head gate, I found yet another!
And in the bull pen near the gate there was yet another deceased hen. In fact, one of her friends was paying her last respects.
16 These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him:
17 A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood,
18 An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief,
19 A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.
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