{"id":546,"date":"2011-08-15T09:37:28","date_gmt":"2011-08-15T16:37:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/?p=546"},"modified":"2011-08-15T09:37:28","modified_gmt":"2011-08-15T16:37:28","slug":"playing-possum","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/546","title":{"rendered":"Playing Possum"},"content":{"rendered":"

\t\t\t\tWhen it comes to my chickens, I’m a mother hen who doesn’t mess around. My girls have the run of the place, and I don’t take kindly to predatory folk prowling around, plundering nests, and ruffling feathers.<\/p>\n

But every “Head Hencho” knows there are as many ways of tending a flock as there are chicken poops under a roost. You have your movable pens, laser deterrents, traps, and high-voltage hot wire. Plenty of armed and able farmgirls shoot to kill without batting an eyelash.<\/p>\n

And then there’s another approach, one you might not want to try at home.<\/p>\n

Down south in the wild woodlands of Arkansas, Jen Bov\u00e9 does things her own way.\u00a0 A longtime writer for my magazine, Jen is a tough cookie. But, she admits her heart is sometimes too soft to fend for a farm in a place where predators come in all manner of tooth and claw.<\/p>\n

She respects the clever raccoons, she insists, and the coyotes sing lullabies she loves to hear.<\/p>\n

So Jen’s solution is to enforce a strict schedule for her chickens. The hens get cooped up just before sundown and let loose at dawn. It works out pretty well. Most of the time. But there was that one night when she got home after dark…<\/p>\n

Heart pounding, Jen switched on the light of the coop, and there he was\u2014a possum perched in a nest box with egg shells and yolk oozing from his toothy grin. Luckily, the hens were okay, but the stubborn possum wasn’t easily deterred from his dinner. That’s when Jen hatched a plan.<\/p>\n

Picture a 5-gallon bucket, a long-handled hoe, an empty feed sack, a bungee cord…and a bunch of chickens fluttering on their roost overhead.<\/p>\n

With the bucket positioned under the nest box, Jen leaned out to hook the hoe behind the possum’s posterior. With a nudge and a tug, she dumped the hissing marauder down into the bucket. And before you could shout “Score!” Jen slapped the feed sack over the opening and bungeed it tight.<\/p>\n

The chickens cheered! er, clucked.<\/p>\n

Few possums are fortunate enough to undergo a change of venue like the prisoner Jen transported in her pickup that night. Her young daughter said, “Mom took the possum to town.”<\/p>\n

\"\"

Playing possum, photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons, Johnruble<\/p><\/div>\n

Well, not to town, exactly, more \u201cto task.\u201d But the critter did get a fresh chance at good behavior, miles from the nearest chicken coop.<\/p>\n

Gives new meaning to the expression \u201cAwesome Possum.\u201d<\/p>\n

Share your chicken\/predator stories. I have about 10 more!\t\t<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When it comes to my chickens, I’m a mother hen who doesn’t mess around. My girls have the run of the place, and I don’t take kindly to predatory folk prowling around, plundering nests, and ruffling feathers. But every “Head … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a> Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[169,350,469,545,717,721],"class_list":["post-546","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-get_out","tag-chickens","tag-get-out","tag-jen-bove","tag-maryjane","tag-possum","tag-predators"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/546","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=546"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/546\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=546"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=546"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.raisingjane.org\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=546"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}