Saturday morning I substituted for our wonderful Assistant Librarian, Lyra, who is on maternity leave and tending lusty young Jupiter. Needless to say the three chickens I had lost to a weasel during the week was a topic of conversation with library patrons. I said we put out a rat trap and a Havahart, but did not think that peanut butter was the kind of bait to attract a weasel. Everyone agreed that peanut butter did not sound like weasel food – and one knowledgeable patron confidently suggested liver.
When I got home I learned that another chicken had been killed. The traps were empty. Liver was our next strategy. We found frozen liver at the supermarket and briefly balked at the $3.50 price tag. If successful we were only going to use an ounce or two; if unsuccessful we were going to give the chickens away and save them from certain death. Finally we did toss the beef liver into our basket.
Sunday morning Henry gritted his teeth and tromped out to the hen house through more inches of new fallen snow.