At last account, there was a mystery going on on the farm.
The chickens were still busily gobbling up their spent grain and discarded pumpkins that folks had either delivered right to the door or I picked up, and frustration was mounting that each day, there wasn’t an egg to be seen.
Sunny, out-of-season, warm days happened that should have guaranteed a plethora of orbs, and still no eggs.
On occasion, one would find the remnants of an egg, the shell lying completely clean of yolk and white but then nothing.
Thinking that the culprit was most likely another chicken or chickens that had discovered that some pretty tasty things come from their backsides or perhaps a wayward racoon or weasel that was sneaking into the coop, all on recognizance was set up with a night vision trail cam to capture who the wily thief was.
The first attempt at capturing the heist in progress was a total failure. The SD card that was in the trail cam experienced an error some time between setting the cam up and checking about 72 hours later.
Not to be defeated, a new SD card was obtained, and once again, a waiting period of 72 hours went by.
Super excited to see what or who the culprit was going to be, the card was taken inside the house to glean through around 400 or so still photos of chickens going in and out of nesting boxes, the occasional dust cloud drifting by, and then the answer to all of the missing eggs was discovered.
Who would it be but dear Cooper, the barn cat that took up residence last November as a small kitten.
Photo after photo showing the crafty cat reaching into a nesting box with his murder mittens to gently roll a fresh egg out onto the coop floor and then quietly devour it like it never happened left me absolutely stunned.
Knowing the cat had been displaying a beautifully shiny and healthy coat, it all made sense now. Obviously, the temptation of having a fresh egg or two every day was just too much for the feline, and he had been helping himself to the freshest laid eggs in Jackson County.
The cat burglar being identified, now comes the dilemma of a trial. Is it banishment from the chicken coop? Perhaps new nesting boxes need to be purchased that allow the eggs to roll back into a secret compartment so they can’t be readily accessible to fluffy paws.
Whatever the outcome comes to, it has to be that at least some, if not all, eggs need to be saved from an over-easy bum nugget cruncher. Efforts to interrogate the guilty party have gone unanswered.
Until next time…
Stephanie Strothmann owns Purple Shamrock Farm LLC in rural Seymour. Send comments to [email protected].