Carnage in the Coop

I'm pretty sure that a chicken squawking woke me up at 2:30 this morning. But I wasn't positive. So I risked my husband's wrath (he doesn't take kindly to being woken up but claims he's not responsible for his actions when he's half asleep) and shook him awake to make sure he'd put the chickens up last night. He said he had so I went back to sleep . . . after a loooooooooong time. Before I actually fell asleep I could hear a pack of coyotes howling like the hounds of hell.

I figure I had just drifted off . . . finally . . . when there was an almighty commotion. Rachel was yelling, Rob was running, and somewhere something was screaming and it went on and on. I was so out of it my biggest impressions are of following Rob outside to check the coop and doing a lot of whimpering. He wanted to know how many chickens we have (7, 2 chicks, and 1 rooster) and thought at first that they were all there, but then realized one was missing. She must not have gone into the coop with the others when it got dark and he didn't notice when he closed them in. We were about to go looking for her when she tottered out of the woods looking a bit dazed and headed straight for the light streaming out of the coop. No blood, no cuts, no nothing. Some ruffled feathers, that was all.

Our best guess is that it was the raccoon we've been having trouble with. Rob yelling as he ran out of the house probably saved the chicken's life scaring away the coon. I'm wondering if we might not have to live trap that beastie and relocate him somewhere far, far away. We haven't had coons around in something like 25 years. The foxes and coyotes are enough trouble.