One of the cats got into the chicken run. Not entirely sure how she pulled it off, but she’s the one we joke about being part liquid, so she probably turned into some sort of gelatinous blob and slithered in while we weren’t looking.
The chickens FREAKED. The cat FREAKED. Every animal involved was terrified out of its mind.
The chickens eventually retreated into their coop, and we got the cat out of the run.
A little bit later, my husband asked for help because one of the chickens hurt the comb on top of its head during The Great Panic. We went out to the coop with a bottle of iodine and a flashlight, because it was getting dark.
My husband picked up the hurt chicken. With the flashlight, we can clearly see that its comb was torn off and quite literally dangling by a thread.
He said, “I’m going to need the scissors.”
I replied, “You’re on your own now.”