Thirty-two chickens were found dead and 46 reported missing in a "highly unusual" overnight or early morning attack on a chicken coop in the Fair Oaks area, authorities said Thursday.
Only four medium-sized chickens of reddish coloring survived the attack and were found huddled together in what animal control experts described as a "clearly traumatized"state, according to Fairfax County police spokeswoman Lucy Caldwell.
Police said they think the most likely culprit was an animal.
Officers were called to the coop around 8 a.m. after a neighbor reported seeing dozens of lifeless chickens in the pasture of a farm in the 5200 block of Winfield Road, Caldwell said.
A portion of the electric fence surrounding the chicken coop had been trampled, Caldwell said.
"It was a vicious attack, savage," Caldwell said. "The chickens were found in varying states, with a number of injuries, some of them serious."
Police did not know who or what was responsible for the attack. No footprints or animal paw prints were found on the scene of the attack, according to Caldwell.
The coop is located on a farm in what Caldwell described as a "quiet, bucolic neighborhood." The chickens in the other coop on the property were unharmed.
Police are searching for the 46 missing chickens, she said. It is unclear if they are wandering Fairfax County or have fallen victim to predatory animals.
The coop is located on a farm in what Caldwell described as a "quiet, bucolic neighborhood." The chickens in the other coop on the property were unharmed.
Police are searching for the 46 missing chickens, she said. It is unclear if they are wandering Fairfax County or have fallen victim to predatory animals.
2011年8月24日星期三
2011年6月22日星期三
Utah author teaches backyard chicken-coop basics
Utah native Gretchen Anderson has chronicled the ruffled feathers between city leaders and backyard farmers in her book about urban chicken coops, now she’s teaching free classes this week on the basics of raising backyard chickens.
Anderson’s book The Backyard Chicken Fight, chronicles the new urban chicken-coop movement in cities across the country where urban farmers have clashed with municipalities that consider clucking chickens nuisances. In researching her book Anderson discovered quite a reversal in the role of government and the citizen chicken raiser. She refers to a 1918 poster where the government advertises the need for citizens to keep and raiser their own chickens, as evidence of how far the change has shifted.
“We’ve moved away from all of our farming roots,” Anderson says. “We’ve become metropolitan and cosmopolitan and left our food production to factory farms. As a result nobody has chickens in their backyards and nor do municipalities want to enter in that conversation.” Anderson’s love affair with organic chickens dates back to her youth in Holliday, where her family had their own chickens and she used to ride her bicycle around as a kid selling fresh eggs to her neighbors.
As an adult she gravitated easily to the topic of the urban chicken movement, and set out to write a concise history of the movement’s battles against cities whose ordinances have long since abandoned zoning for urban chickens. Anderson’s book follows the property rights vs. chicken coops battles across the country including a spotlight on the debate here in Utah. “I did chronicle Ogden,” Anderson said. “The fight got pretty ugly there.”
But beyond telling the stories Anderson is also preaching the benefits of home grown eggs, a super food that can be produced at little cost. “I think it is especially [economical] considering the quality of the egg I get out of my backyard coop,” Anderson says.
“It’s unmatched by any organic cage-free egg you can buy in the market.” Anderson will be at hand this week—which is Chicken Week—teaching free classes on building cheap coops, warding off predators and general tips and tricks for raising your chickens from the comfort of your very own backyard.For more on what the Wasatch Gardens are doing for Chicken Week, visit their website here.
Check out Anderson's free chicken coop classes the rest of this week:
Wednesday, June 22, 7:00 p.m. Riverton Library, 12877 S. 1830 West Road Riverton
Thursday, June 23, 7:00 p.m. Magna Library, 2675 S. 8950 West Magna
Friday June 24, 4-6pm, Tyler Library Branch, 8041 S. Wood Street Midvale
Anderson’s book The Backyard Chicken Fight, chronicles the new urban chicken-coop movement in cities across the country where urban farmers have clashed with municipalities that consider clucking chickens nuisances. In researching her book Anderson discovered quite a reversal in the role of government and the citizen chicken raiser. She refers to a 1918 poster where the government advertises the need for citizens to keep and raiser their own chickens, as evidence of how far the change has shifted.
“We’ve moved away from all of our farming roots,” Anderson says. “We’ve become metropolitan and cosmopolitan and left our food production to factory farms. As a result nobody has chickens in their backyards and nor do municipalities want to enter in that conversation.” Anderson’s love affair with organic chickens dates back to her youth in Holliday, where her family had their own chickens and she used to ride her bicycle around as a kid selling fresh eggs to her neighbors.
As an adult she gravitated easily to the topic of the urban chicken movement, and set out to write a concise history of the movement’s battles against cities whose ordinances have long since abandoned zoning for urban chickens. Anderson’s book follows the property rights vs. chicken coops battles across the country including a spotlight on the debate here in Utah. “I did chronicle Ogden,” Anderson said. “The fight got pretty ugly there.”
But beyond telling the stories Anderson is also preaching the benefits of home grown eggs, a super food that can be produced at little cost. “I think it is especially [economical] considering the quality of the egg I get out of my backyard coop,” Anderson says.
“It’s unmatched by any organic cage-free egg you can buy in the market.” Anderson will be at hand this week—which is Chicken Week—teaching free classes on building cheap coops, warding off predators and general tips and tricks for raising your chickens from the comfort of your very own backyard.For more on what the Wasatch Gardens are doing for Chicken Week, visit their website here.
Check out Anderson's free chicken coop classes the rest of this week:
Wednesday, June 22, 7:00 p.m. Riverton Library, 12877 S. 1830 West Road Riverton
Thursday, June 23, 7:00 p.m. Magna Library, 2675 S. 8950 West Magna
Friday June 24, 4-6pm, Tyler Library Branch, 8041 S. Wood Street Midvale
2011年6月8日星期三
Little white lies of grandfatherhood
I’ve been a grandfather for 27 years, and I have 18 grandchildren, so I should know better.
There are times when trying to be a good role model and remain a doting grandfather are difficult, to be sure. I may have mentioned before that my wife and I baby-sit grandchildren two days a week. It certainly is fun most of the time, and it is eye-opening all the time.
You were too busy making a living when your own children were little. You don’t even remember how they grew up so fast. One day they’re toddlers, and the next they are getting married.
Growing children have questions about everything, and grandparents are expected to have the answers to all of the questions. I have an especially inquisitive 4-year-old granddaughter who has been coming to the “farm” since she was 1.
She has explored all the animals that she has encountered. Never has she been afraid of handling the animals unless they were extremely larger than she. At 1 year of age, she chased baby chickens around and around the manure-covered chicken coop trying to catch one so she could pet it. She learned when to quit chasing chickens by cornering them in the coop. If they could peck their way free, she gave up on them.
Lizards, snakes and frogs were pets to be handled, mangled and enjoyed. She became particularly fond of a painted turtle that climbed out of a pond and lived most of the summer with us. She was very disappointed when we informed her that we had set Timmy free down near the pond.
Last summer, during one of her excursions, she found a tree frog. A tree frog differs from an ordinary frog in that when you kiss it, it doesn’t become a prince. Lola found that out firsthand. Tree frogs have the ability to leap great distances and swim like an ordinary frog; but, unlike ordinary frogs, they can climb trees, or houses, or cars, or anything they want to climb. They have suctions beneath their legs and feet and can change colors to blend in with whatever they attach themselves to.
My granddaughter, Lola, became attached to a tree frog she found at the farm, and against my better judgment, I let her take it home, where after a few days it died in the makeshift home it was provided. I felt bad about the sadness but chalked it up to a learning experience.
Unfortunately, Lola found another tree frog at the farm this year. It had attached itself to our hot tub on the deck of our house underneath a large tree. The frog would climb under the cover flap, where it would be cooler and wetter in the hot day sun. Here Lola found it hiding. She immediately grabbed it and needed a carrying box with air holes for breathing so she could spend the afternoon playing with her newfound friend.
Immediately I began wrestling with the question that I knew was coming. “Can I take the frog home to show Mommy?” I didn’t want her to experience the same grief and turmoil that was created last year. I began to run through my mind the words I would use to keep her from taking the frog. She wasn’t happy and argued openly with my decision, but finally acquiesced.
I convinced her that her buddy would be waiting for her next week if she would simply put him under the hot tub cover. She reluctantly complied.
Just before it was time for Lola’s exit for home, she wanted one last look at her buddy. So Grandpa raised the lid to the hot tub and sure enough their lay the frog attached, looking somewhat under the weather. Lola screamed and began crying. “He’s dead, you killed him!” she screamed.
I lowered the lid and assured her that he was not dead but only looked that way to keep the cat from killing him. She wasn’t really buying it; but, she has always relied on Grandpa to tell her the truth. Why would he lie to her now?
How do you stop? Do I tell the truth or concoct another tale to avoid her pain? I can look hard for another tree frog and hope she can’t tell the difference. What a wicked web we weave!
There are times when trying to be a good role model and remain a doting grandfather are difficult, to be sure. I may have mentioned before that my wife and I baby-sit grandchildren two days a week. It certainly is fun most of the time, and it is eye-opening all the time.
You were too busy making a living when your own children were little. You don’t even remember how they grew up so fast. One day they’re toddlers, and the next they are getting married.
Growing children have questions about everything, and grandparents are expected to have the answers to all of the questions. I have an especially inquisitive 4-year-old granddaughter who has been coming to the “farm” since she was 1.
She has explored all the animals that she has encountered. Never has she been afraid of handling the animals unless they were extremely larger than she. At 1 year of age, she chased baby chickens around and around the manure-covered chicken coop trying to catch one so she could pet it. She learned when to quit chasing chickens by cornering them in the coop. If they could peck their way free, she gave up on them.
Lizards, snakes and frogs were pets to be handled, mangled and enjoyed. She became particularly fond of a painted turtle that climbed out of a pond and lived most of the summer with us. She was very disappointed when we informed her that we had set Timmy free down near the pond.
Last summer, during one of her excursions, she found a tree frog. A tree frog differs from an ordinary frog in that when you kiss it, it doesn’t become a prince. Lola found that out firsthand. Tree frogs have the ability to leap great distances and swim like an ordinary frog; but, unlike ordinary frogs, they can climb trees, or houses, or cars, or anything they want to climb. They have suctions beneath their legs and feet and can change colors to blend in with whatever they attach themselves to.
My granddaughter, Lola, became attached to a tree frog she found at the farm, and against my better judgment, I let her take it home, where after a few days it died in the makeshift home it was provided. I felt bad about the sadness but chalked it up to a learning experience.
Unfortunately, Lola found another tree frog at the farm this year. It had attached itself to our hot tub on the deck of our house underneath a large tree. The frog would climb under the cover flap, where it would be cooler and wetter in the hot day sun. Here Lola found it hiding. She immediately grabbed it and needed a carrying box with air holes for breathing so she could spend the afternoon playing with her newfound friend.
Immediately I began wrestling with the question that I knew was coming. “Can I take the frog home to show Mommy?” I didn’t want her to experience the same grief and turmoil that was created last year. I began to run through my mind the words I would use to keep her from taking the frog. She wasn’t happy and argued openly with my decision, but finally acquiesced.
I convinced her that her buddy would be waiting for her next week if she would simply put him under the hot tub cover. She reluctantly complied.
Just before it was time for Lola’s exit for home, she wanted one last look at her buddy. So Grandpa raised the lid to the hot tub and sure enough their lay the frog attached, looking somewhat under the weather. Lola screamed and began crying. “He’s dead, you killed him!” she screamed.
I lowered the lid and assured her that he was not dead but only looked that way to keep the cat from killing him. She wasn’t really buying it; but, she has always relied on Grandpa to tell her the truth. Why would he lie to her now?
How do you stop? Do I tell the truth or concoct another tale to avoid her pain? I can look hard for another tree frog and hope she can’t tell the difference. What a wicked web we weave!
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