I was informed by the four cats intently looking out the window that there was someone at the door. I opened it to see if a neighbor cat had come to bid good morning. A handsome raccoon stood there.
“Excuse me Missus,” he says in raccoon, “Would ya mind opening the chicken coop door? Seems I can’t reach the latch.”
He looked at me nervously and walked to and fro. “By the way,” he adds, “you seem to be out of corn.” He hissed and walked towards the barren corn stalks and up and over the fence he went.
I may have moved to the city but sometimes it sure feels like the country.
I knew the bird cry did not belong to the chickens so I ventured out to check on them. There sitting proudly on the chicken fence was a good sized, young hawk. His feathers were all youthfully striped and he sat looking at the large feathered biddies running about.
The ladies all ran up to me in glee hoping I brought them a treat of melon or whatnot and were completely unaware of their visitor. Or, perhaps he was an old friend. One never knows about relationships.
“Chickens, that is a hawk!” I tell them fervently. “Hawks eat chickens!”
The gorgeous hawk was not a bit concerned that I stood mere feet from him with several chickens at my feet, but rather seemed to be calculating how to lift a bird larger than he. He nervously moved along the fence trying to figure it out but decided to go ask his mother and flew off.
Now if a deer shows up to my door…