A big problem with keeping delicious and edible prey animals is that they are delicious and edible. All the chickens walking around the yard happen to be built out of chicken, and our Guineas are succulent little butter birds. Likewise, goats are made out of meat.
My pastures are a veritable buffet of yummy meat options. Literally, everyone out there would make for delicious tacos. The problem is that predators want some taco meat, too.
Predators almost always accompany the keeping of prey animals. Even in the suburbs raccoons and foxes will run down the street, and Coyotes don't stop at the city limits. Although it can be frustrating and sometimes even heartbreaking, I try to remember when I lose the predator battle; usually, it's just a matter of survival. It's not personal, just business.
The one exception that I've encountered to the survival rule is raccoons. For some reason, raccoons like to kill my fowl for fun and then leave them behind.
Shortly after we moved in, a neighborhood raccoon killed my first pet ducklings (that I hatched myself) and left them on the steps up the to deck off the bedroom - like a morbid baby duck breadcrumb trail. It was a nightmare. The raccoons wanted to send me a message as if from the little bandit mob. Message received - and thus started my years-long war with the predators around our house.
Our little urban farm backs up to open space, teeming with coyotes. A pair of bald eagles are roosting in my neighbor's big tree. Telephone poles around here are full of hawks. Skunks like eggs and small chickens, and foxes will eat everything. Then we have lots of the chaos agents that are the raccoon mob.
The fight against predators is a relentless war. No matter how long it's been since a predator attack, it requires constant vigilance to minimize the risk. Particularly in the cold of winter, as many small animals at the bottom of the food chain are hibernating, predators are hungry and need calories to survive the frigid temperatures.
The other day I walked out into the afternoon and heard a guinea fowl going completely nuts. I saw a hawk perched on a fencepost out back. Uh oh.
I tried getting out through the muddy, icy muck to get out back to save the guinea before she became a hawk snack. Guineas are pretty big and have a fair amount of fight in them. A flock of guineas will kill snakes, mice, rats, and even groundhogs (ask me how I know.) Since she was still making noise, I figured it would be ok.
Once I got out I saw that it was a pair of hawks, not just one. The one I saw was the lookout while its partner was procuring the meal.
and that they had attacked my guineas and scared a pair out of the relative safety of our yard. The one who was calling for rescue was ok - her sister - not so much.
I got there right as the hawk I couldn't see took the final blow. I just missed saving her life by seconds. It felt like such a failure.
Then comes the next decision - my bird is dead. Would leaving her there for the hawks who worked hard for this meal satiate their hunger? Or do I want the hawks to know that my house is not where to come for an easy snack?
Ultimately, I decided to not send the neighborhood hawks the message that this was an ok place to eat so I picked up the guinea. I then texted my neighbor and friend, asking her if I could still eat a guinea, even if I didn't kill it.
Hunters have used birds of prey for centuries as the most graceful of living weapons. Although this was a wild bird, there wasn't really any difference, right?
By the way, the importance of having friends who you can text weird questions like the safety of consuming previously murdered fowl cannot be overstated. Wading into the waters of taking on a new challenge, i.e. urban farming, is best done with a friend. Bouncing ideas, struggles, and questions off someone else makes it more vibrant and fun and gives you a whole new set of stories.
Ultimately I decided not to eat her, who knows what bacteria she got in that fight? But, I ensured the hawks couldn't either. I then went out to check the status of the baby goat committee because they are hawk-snack sized right now.
The predators will come. They always come. They creep, slither, and divebomb by land, tunnel, and air. There's no way to make our lives completely predator-proof - but when they make it through our defenses - sometimes the best we can do is not feed them.
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