Somebody asked me this morning - knowing that we have a cat, and we have chickens - if cats and chickens can peacefully co-exist. Finally a question I can offer a reasonably knowledgeable answer togrew in confidence, and began to defend his new territory - we didn’t see another cat for years. In his now advancing years, young interlopers have been allowed to share ground with him, but back in the day he was not to be messed with.
It was during these “prime” years that we introduced a large wooden montrosity into the garden - an “Ark” - to keep chickens in. For the first few weeks we kept the chickens locked in their new home - in order imprint their ridiculously tiny brains with “this is where you live”. Throughout this time, Simpson would sit on top of the ark, lazily looking down at the chickens from time to time as if to say “you want some?”
Finally the day came when we opened the ark, to let the chickens roam. We couldn’t see Simpson anywhere, so didn’t worry too much about him - until he made his first flying attack. He appeared gladiator style out of nowhere, paws spread, and narrowly missed one of the chickens as I booted him off course. I vaguely remember pinning him to the ground as he made a turn for his second attack run, and him doing the “turn in his own skin” trick that cats do, in order to begin stripping skin from my hand.
What we didn’t know and didn’t anticipate is how stupidly brave chickens are.
Simpson learned pretty damn quickly that chickens were (a) bigger than him, (b) always saw him coming, (c) gang up, and (d) fight fire with fire. No joking - I’ve seen them chase him across the garden, head down, bum in the air, wings flapping.
The funniest sight I ever saw was a rook land in the garden. The chickens saw it, lined up alongside each other, and charged it.
So - back to the question - are cats and chickens enemies? Totally. But the chickens own the cats.