Mol and Chub picked the clothes for these guys and Spencer stuffed them and put them up on a skid so that we can move them around to new spots easily. So far they have been great for keeping away hawks during the day, but they didn’t stop a wandering dog from hopping the fence and killing some broilers last night. Ugh. A loose and un-farm-savvy dog seems like the worst of predators, killing whatever moves for the fun of it, rather than out of hunger. Actually, a loose dog without its owners around to watch it is a menace anywhere–mostly to itself, by way of running in front of a car or getting in a fight with another loose dog. Personal pet peeve. Ok, I’m done.
The scarecrows have names–Grandpa Derek, Auntie Emma, and Auntie Katie. . .you know who you are! Well, kind of. I’m not sure which aunt is which. Mol named them, so I guess I should ask her.