So I was lying in bed reading on Saturday night after a particularly busy day when I heard the chickens making an almighty ruckus. There is only one reason why chickens will do this after dark when they should be roosting; clear and present danger. A bit like the time when I dreamt that there was a spider crawling across my face, I was up and across the bedroom before conscious thought process could kick in, down the stairs and dragging my muckers on while yelling to Sid (who was downstairs watching the Olympics) for reinforcements moments later. "There's someone in with the chickens!"
One of the great laws of nature is that there's never a torch handy when you need one, irrespective of the number of torches you actually own. All there was to hand was a small one that is supposed to fit on your head like a miner's helmet when the plastic stretchy bits aren't busted all to hell. Ran out to the chicken pen - in reality a fruit cage of about 9 x 3m - wielding my pathetically inadequate light source to discover that there was a bloody ferret trying to get in. Three of our total complement of nine chickens were in a state of hysteria at the entrance, one was in the (repurposed) kennel and the rest were still roosting in the temple. This has happened once before and the ferret killed two chickens before we could stop it.
There is very little in the way of equipment to hand with which to stave off a determined ferret from one's birds in the average chicken pen. Fortunately when Sid constructed the temple, he made a piece that detaches from the side in order to aid cleaning, and which is comprised of a few bits of weatherboard attached to some 2x2. In extremis, I reasoned that this would serve as well as anything, and grabbed it.
Moments later the ferret had gained ingress to the pen and headed straight into the temple. ARGH. Chickens scattered in terror and I was a mad woman, wielding my clump of weatherboard to keep it away from them. This went on for a while until, acknowledging that even the prospect of a fresh chicken supper was not worth facing down a weatherboard-wielding wild woman, the ferret beat a hasty retreat and I was left patrolling the perimeter as the last bastion of defence between one hungry ferret and nine overwrought and completely petrified hens.
Meanwhile, Sid went to rouse Noodal and they conducted a sweep of the yard to locate the ferret while I inspected the perimeter of the pen for weak spots.We decided to let the dogs out and they certainly picked up the scent but couldn't find it. Noodal then found it under a pallet in the feed room and we considered our options. Leaving it loose was not an option, too risky even if we electrified the pen. None of us were volunteering to maintain an all night vigil in the chicken pen. That left kill or capture. Nobody in our family is particularly equipped to kill something in cold blood, so that left capture. Cue the arrival of one cat box, a pouch of cat food and one Noodal, who as it turns out is some sort of ferret whisperer. Within moments she had said ferret banged to rights with an unexpected supper and we could all repair back to the house and the chickens back to their temple.
Next morning, Noodal informed me that she had called him Feargal. Feargal the Ferret. I only wish I didn't have a mouthful of coffee at the time but I'm sure the stain will wash off the patio in due course.
The poor thing is covered in ticks and we obviously cannot keep him. We know nothing of ferrets, except that they don't mix particularly well with chickens, and that they need to be with other ferrets. However, after a couple of days of calling round various local ferret rescue places, most of which are full, we have found one that will take him in and care for him properly. Noodal is taking him tomorrow. I am glad because much as I didn't want the little bastard eating our chickens, the act of catching him conferred upon us the responsibility to see that he was appropriately rehomed. So all is well and we have learned a thing or two about ferrets - not the least of which is that they stink to high hell and that it will take days to fumigate the garage.
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