OK, so I had wondered why the chickens were breaking thier eggs in thier nest. They had been making a general mess of thier nests was tired of sticking my hand in the broken, gooey mess to find decent eggs. I thought maybe it was the fact they were tired of being cooped up in the coop after snow storms and frigid weather. Well, Philip shut the chickens up one night and the next morning when I went out to open the chicken door, one of the roosters rounded the house and had spent a night outside--living to tell about it. I find this odd. . . that same evening I go back out to shut the chickens up --carrying a large maglight flashlight--and hear a funny noise at the door. An opposum is vacating the chicken coop. I hit the thing with the flashlight, but I'm not a killer and it creeped me out. Or at least not a bare handed killer. If I'd a had a gun handy the thing would have been dead right there. So I share my newfound revelation with my husband who says, "we need to get you a gun around here!" So fast forward to the next night. I go back out to shut up the chickens and our friendly scoundrel old opposum is in the coop hiding behind the door. So I shut him in and go get Philip who comes with a large hammer and, well, you get the idea. I haven't had any broken eggs since then.
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