Close call, next project

We've picked up a small flock of chickens since we've moved in. Some abandoned, some just passed on from a friend. My dad helped me set up an existing pen on the property to house them better. Heat lamp, plug-in water bowl for winter, roosts and so on. It was getting time to clean it out, so I tossed a bunch of stale bread in their yard to get them out of the coop. As I was scooping away, in flew one of the chickens. Which is unusual, usually they stay away from any commotion I'm making. She was trying to get away from the gray mass diving down on her. In that half-second I realized it was a hawk, the bird wheeled around in the doorway and dove after the rest of the flock. Which was running for cover under the larger, three-sided stall. They like to hang out here when it's inclement weather, they don't like scratching in the snow, and probably feel more secure under its roof. I saw the hawk dive and get both sets of talons on one of the white hens, right on the stall's threshold. It let go immediately and flew into the far corner of the stall, towards the only set of windows. It stopped right on the window sill. I walked right up to it, gratefully wearing a set of insulated work gloves, and grabbed it right by the legs and tail feathers. Easier to truss than any of our chickens. Hanging upside down, turning its head to keep an eye on things, I carried it out of the stall. My heart started to race, in wonder at what had just happened and what I was carrying in my hand. I walked back to the house, and knocked on Andrew's apartment window. His head popped up, I held the bird in one hand and pointed with the other. He cranked open the window, and I said something to the effect of: Hey I just caught this going after the chickens while I was in there cleaning the coop can you grab your camera I'll meet you at your front porch".


During this whole time, I had the hawk just by one leg and the base of its tail. The only struggle it gave was to occasionally flap its wings once or twice, and fold them in again. I tried putting my hand on its shoulder, to support the rest of its body, and it never even tried to bite. Just kept its beak slightly open. It didn't grab on with its talons either. Which I suppose is correct in this situation; you're not trying to hold on, you're waiting to get away. Still, what amazed me was how calm and steady it was during its capture. The opposite of trying to catch a sparrow that's flown into our house, for sure. I let it go soon after the last picture; it took off low to the ground, flew expertly between two low-hanging branches, and that was it. Didn't even lose a tail feather. Andrew went to go upload pictures, I went back to the chickens to see how they had fared.

Not a scratch. Most had followed the rooster back into the coop, silent and huddled in the corner. A few were still in the stall, pressed into corners. This is definitely one of the vulnerable aspects of chickens, they will suffocate each other trying to wedge into a small space when under duress. I had to gently move them out and into the coop. They were all fine, not a scratch or a drop of blood. A few more loose feathers than usual, and that was it.

I sent the pictures to my brother, who had this to say: "The goshawk is in the accipiter family, like the cooper/sharp shinned hawks. They're differentiated from the buteos (like the red tailed hawk) as being a more swooping through the woods and flying actively; as opposed to the more soaring high in the sky buteos. Accipiters are known as bird feeder hawks, so your chicken coop is right in that ballpark." He sent me this link. He said he heard these birds of prey can bite through steel-reinforced gloves - but hey, glad it worked for you.

I've alway kept the chickens closed up in the coop at night, and when we're not home. The yard has a 4' fence, but no cover. Clearly some will be necessary. Amber having driven to work, I was left with a balmy day and a bike trailer, to start my next project.