Portage River Farm

Yesterday was a very pleasant day weather-wise. It was cool and breezy with a solid cloud cover that kept the roasting sun at bay. I spent much of the late evening with hoe in hand trying to make gains in my struggle with the weeds in the garden. As the light grew increasingly dim, Aidan returned to notify me for the third time that it was time to come in and read his bedtime story.

Making my gradual way to the house, I stopped by the coop to bed down the chickens for the evening. They came out of their huddle in the corner to accept my offering of feed and fresh water with appreciative little honks. I counted them, said goodnight and closed the door behind me.

I found the house pleasantly dark and quiet. Freya had gone to bed early and Aidan was sitting in his bed awaiting my arrival. I stopped by to briefly check in with Janet who was comfortably curled up with a book in the bedroom. She was enjoying the stillness and the cool night air that came in through her open window. She was in the final few pages of a very long read but patiently endured my interruption to receive a good-night kiss.

I retrieved a chair from the kitchen and sat down next to Aidan's bed to pick up the story of Tom Sawyer where we had left it the night before. Tom was taking advantage of a surprise visit from a local dignitary to his bible study class to force his teacher to present him with an award for memorizing verses that he hadn't earned. He was smitten with the visiting judge's daughter and was trying to make a good impression. The judge was unknowingly praising the badly behaved boy as "a fine young man". Tom was on the verge of getting caught in the lie by being asked to recite when our story was interrupted by a call from Janet's room.

Janet asked, "Did you put the chickens away?". I replied that I had. Then she said, "I just heard a really strange noise coming from the coop." "It sounds like something is killing the chickens!"

I raced around the house preparing to head out to investigate. I flipped on the outside floodlights in the hope that it would discourage whatever was out there until I could get my shoes on. I grabbed my LED headlamp and burst out of the front door. As I rounded the corner of the house the coop came into view in the white-grey light of the floods. I could see nothing out of the ordinary but I grabbed a weeding hoe from the shed just in case.

About halfway to the gate of the coop I was collected enough to finally turn on my headlamp. It is a little marvel that puts out a surprisingly bright white light. I sped along the edge of the garden toward the coop and scanned the area with my light. It was then that I caught sight of something that stopped me in my tracks.

About thirty yards to my left the fencing of the chicken enclosure turns a corner toward the woods. Next to that corner was a large pair of bright green eyes looking directly at me. They were wide-set and triangular, clearly belonging to something fairly large. They were very still as the creature watched to see what I was going to do.

I resolved to scare it off, whatever it was. With a rising sense of indignant rage that this thing would dare invade our tranquil little farm I began running down the fence row toward where it was standing. The ground there is very rough with leftover ruts from the spring plowing and before long I had tripped and sprawled to the ground.

I quickly jumped up and resumed my pursuit. With a half roar, half growl emanating from my throat I charged through the weeds to the property line. A quick scan ahead showed me that my quarry had fled across our neighbors field and had paused at the safety of the treeline to stare back at me with those bright green eyes once again.

I continued my growling pursuit, running as fast as I could across the recently mown hayfield to where it had been standing. Arriving at the spot, I checked my pace and stood barking a threat into the dark of the forest. I could hear it crashing through the brush, moving in an arc away from me through the woods toward the southeast. After a short walk into the woods and a bit more growling and waving my hoe in caveman fashion, I convinced myself that it was gone.

I returned to the coop and verified that the birds were all healthy and safe. I'm pretty confident that no predator can get to them once they are closed inside, but I just wanted to check to be sure. They were stirred up by all of the commotion but otherwise unharmed.

After I returned to the house, I spent some time exploring the Internet for any clues to the identity of our invader. My assumption had been that I was chasing a coyote and the websites confirmed that their eyes shine green-gold at night. One other possibility came to light as well that I admit was a bit of a surprise. According to several conservation groups researching the subject, we have a sizable population of cougars in the state. For example, click here. According to them, cougars have been spotted all around our area including a sighting only ten miles away two weeks ago.

I know that coyote is the far more likely culprit. We know that they live near us and they are certainly more plentiful. At the same time, when I think back to the sight of those ghostly green eyes I find myself not so sure. The placement of the eyes seems very broad, suggesting a large, wide head. The eyes were also rather triangular in shape, definitely suggesting something more feline to me.

I'm sure I'll never know. I went out this morning in search of tracks but found nothing remarkable. If nothing else we can just chalk it up as another exciting adventure here on our little farm.