If I've learned one thing about chickens it's that they are not aware they are prey animals. Or if they are aware, they are not concerned about it. Each bird is a despot for the part of the world they choose to see. That world starts with the pecking order beneath them. Whether or not chickens perceive their status as prey, they are also predators. And this they know.
A chicken that finds a mouse nibbling at their grain plucks the furry animal up by the skin of its back. As soon as the mouse is aware it has come off the ground, another bird takes it by the tail. When plucked away, the tail comes off. Another beak joins the taking and the division of flesh goes on until there are no parts left to go around.
Our chickens don't reserve their violence for other animals, they terrorize their flock mates with that same taste for blood. It's true the pecking order has to be established somehow – ours might be long on ways to do it. All their ways, violent.
Every once in a while they peck my hand or attack my boot. I’m not too concerned about being torn apart by chickens. They could, however, injure my daughter, Z. Since their aggression started around week 12, I keep her at a distance during chicken chores. That precaution, temporary as it might be, is complicating my effort to involve her in my routine.
The hens might be docile enough to keep for layers once the roosters are sent to the butcher, but with the following generation I'll have the same problem. The whole flock goes to slaughter in a few days. Next time we'll get more easy-going birds.
Whoa…..those chickens have a fierce gaze!