I wish I were sharing better news today, but I’ve just experienced one of the hardest moments of my homesteading journey here at Oldwayon. Our small chicken flock came under attack during the night, and it’s left me feeling frustrated, heartbroken, and questioning all the hard work I’ve put into this place.
I woke up to discover that a predator had managed to sneak into the enclosure—despite the fencing, cameras, and everything else I’d set up—leaving one of my beloved chickens mortally wounded and another gone entirely. It was only after closer inspection that I realized the second chicken had been killed for no apparent reason—its body left behind, uneaten. It’s devastating to know I failed to protect them. Anyone who has raised animals understands the emotional toll this can take. These aren’t just livestock; they’re an important part of my daily life and my homesteading dreams.
The hardest part is the lingering guilt. Could I have done more? Did I focus on the wrong priorities? The fence may have been too close to something a predator could use as leverage. My cameras didn’t trigger the way I’d hoped, which means I need to rethink my security system. I’m now planning on installing fresh batteries, repositioning the cameras, and finishing the electric fence around the entire property. An automatic chicken door is on the way, too—though nothing can erase the sadness from losing these birds.
It’s not just the loss but also the frustration of juggling so many tasks. I’m trying to build a strong community around homesteading, keep up with educational videos, manage daily chores, and adapt this land to be self-sufficient. Sometimes it feels like there’s not enough time—or enough of me—to do it all. The reality of homesteading can be far more difficult than it looks on YouTube or social media. Setbacks like this can really take the wind out of your sails.
Still, I’m committed to learning from each failure. Every moment on a farm can teach you something new, even if the lesson is harsh. I’m reevaluating my priorities, doubling down on predator-proofing strategies, and making sure that any future expansions consider all the mistakes I’ve made so far. If this video resonates with you—if you’ve felt the sting of losing an animal under your care—you’ll understand the deep sense of responsibility and the determination that follows.
Right now, the next steps involve cleaning up the coop, properly disposing of the lost birds, tending to the wounded chicken, and making sure the rest of the flock remains safe. I’m also forcing myself to take a moment to breathe, reflect on how far I’ve come, and remind myself that failure is not the end. It’s another chapter in the story of Oldwayon.
Thank you all for your support and for following along, even when times are tough. I hope sharing these raw experiences helps other aspiring homesteaders see the reality behind the scenes and maybe helps prevent similar tragedies for someone else. Hang in there with me—things will get better. One day at a time.
Take care,
Ryan
I woke up to discover that a predator had managed to sneak into the enclosure—despite the fencing, cameras, and everything else I’d set up—leaving one of my beloved chickens mortally wounded and another gone entirely. It was only after closer inspection that I realized the second chicken had been killed for no apparent reason—its body left behind, uneaten. It’s devastating to know I failed to protect them. Anyone who has raised animals understands the emotional toll this can take. These aren’t just livestock; they’re an important part of my daily life and my homesteading dreams.
The hardest part is the lingering guilt. Could I have done more? Did I focus on the wrong priorities? The fence may have been too close to something a predator could use as leverage. My cameras didn’t trigger the way I’d hoped, which means I need to rethink my security system. I’m now planning on installing fresh batteries, repositioning the cameras, and finishing the electric fence around the entire property. An automatic chicken door is on the way, too—though nothing can erase the sadness from losing these birds.
It’s not just the loss but also the frustration of juggling so many tasks. I’m trying to build a strong community around homesteading, keep up with educational videos, manage daily chores, and adapt this land to be self-sufficient. Sometimes it feels like there’s not enough time—or enough of me—to do it all. The reality of homesteading can be far more difficult than it looks on YouTube or social media. Setbacks like this can really take the wind out of your sails.
Still, I’m committed to learning from each failure. Every moment on a farm can teach you something new, even if the lesson is harsh. I’m reevaluating my priorities, doubling down on predator-proofing strategies, and making sure that any future expansions consider all the mistakes I’ve made so far. If this video resonates with you—if you’ve felt the sting of losing an animal under your care—you’ll understand the deep sense of responsibility and the determination that follows.
Right now, the next steps involve cleaning up the coop, properly disposing of the lost birds, tending to the wounded chicken, and making sure the rest of the flock remains safe. I’m also forcing myself to take a moment to breathe, reflect on how far I’ve come, and remind myself that failure is not the end. It’s another chapter in the story of Oldwayon.
Thank you all for your support and for following along, even when times are tough. I hope sharing these raw experiences helps other aspiring homesteaders see the reality behind the scenes and maybe helps prevent similar tragedies for someone else. Hang in there with me—things will get better. One day at a time.
Take care,
Ryan
