Chicken: It's not What's for Dinner

Our latest yard visitor of note:

The biddies were in their garden, doing the things that chickens do.

Penny, Molly, and Bessie dust bathing

I was in the house when I heard the squawk.  Or was it a scream?  It did sound a little like sheer terror.  Which is slightly more alarming than the sound a chicken makes when it lays an egg.  But only slightly.   

I looked into the garden and saw one chicken, Jo, tucked into some tall grasses in a corner.  I looked out another window and saw the other chickens high-tailing it into the coop.  I looked into the trees above the chicken run and saw this:

I picked up the phone.

me: "Hi-it's-me, will Bald Eagles go after chickens?"

husband: "yes, why?"

me: "There's one watching the girls from a tree directly above the chicken run."

husband: "You'd better get them inside then."

me: "Okay-bye."

I ran outside (with camera in tow) and realized that backup had already arrived.  The eagle looked up

and saw this.

Crows started dive-bombing the eagle.  I thanked the crows as I ran to the garden, escorted a distressed Jo into the coop, and closed the door.  By this time the crows had handily escorted the eagle on its way.

I left the girls in their protective coop and run for the rest of the day.  And that is why we don't free range our chickens.  Just too many wild animals looking for a meal.  What a beautiful predator.