You want to hate those wild dogs but they live here too. This land is just as much theirs and at the end of the day, we’re all just passing through. What can we do but learn and grow from it, hope, and do better still. Not many tears have been shed for the countless losses over the years, aside from that first, as the flocks of chickens came and went and our connection to them dwindled, but this group hit square in the chest where the heart does its singing. There’s a bit of numbness that follows, a bit of kicking like it were a rock in the way at the wonder of why these chickens couldn’t find safety. They can fly a bit, so why didn’t they fly to higher ground to get away from their assailants? Why didn’t they follow Frenchie, with her hard-earned foresight to jump the fence and hide in the neighbor’s woods?

The hardest thing is keeping Thumper the turkey and the chickens caged. They want to forage, to splash in the cool dirt on the hillside, to roam the grounds and stretch their wings—to free range. It’s not natural to be caged and frankly Thumper deserves to live her best life. Yet I can’t always control the harm in the world and I want to keep them safe so it’s hard to reconcile—how does one explain to a bird that to caging them is for their own good when really it’s for my peace of mind? It’s a lot like having kids—you know they need to explore the world in order to enrich and understand themselves and you know they’re not yours forever, but you are always saddled with worry for their safety, wanting to hold on to what bit of time you’re given for as long as you can. At a certain point we all must let go, come what may. All we can really do is teach them well and send them out, hope the world is kind to them.

So here’s what you do—keep them locked in, safe for a time. You forgive the coyotes for their instincts and let the dogs out longer that their presence might send the predators another direction, much farther away. In fact, you frequent the outdoors even more, passing the buried remains of your favorite flocks, only letting the birds out to free range when you know you’ll be there to keep watch, which you do time and again. And then bit by bit, the edges blur. Uncertainty will always be uncertain and no amount of fencing or dogs’ watching or wishing will draw the conclusion. We try our best to be sure, doing our part based on what we know and what we’re given to make it so it’s easier on them, but there comes a time where you have to let things grow where they are.

Casey Knott is a featured author for Issue 2. See more about Casey here: https://www.knottcasey.com/