So a reader asks if cementing coop corner posts is overkill. Six-foot wide coop, twelve-foot run. Wants predator-proofing. The answer is no, and yes, and maybe you should grab a shovel and a bag of Quikrete before a raccoon starts a renovation project of its own.
Let's be honest: if you've ever watched a determined predator work a chicken run, you know they don't care about your weekend plans. They'll dig. They'll pry. They'll test every joint like they're inspecting a used car. Cementing those corner posts doesn't make the coop look fancy. It makes the ground say "no" in a language predators understand. A post sunk in dirt is a suggestion. A post set in concrete is a boundary. For a run that's only twelve feet, the extra hour of work is cheap insurance against the kind of morning where you find feathers and silence.
But here's where we get to the fowl play part. Cement alone won't save you. A raccoon can climb a wooden post faster than you can say "cluck-tastic." A fox will dig under a wall if the hardware cloth stops six inches above the ground. The real predator-proofing comes from the whole system: buried apron, heavy-gauge wire, and posts that don't wobble when a determined paw leans on them. Cement makes the posts immovable. It doesn't make the run impenetrable. Think of it as the foundation for the real work, the mesh, the latches, the nightly headcount.
What would we tell this reader face to face? Go ahead and cement the posts. But while you're at it, bury the hardware cloth at least a foot out and a foot down. Use screws, not staples. And for the love of all that is egg-citing, check the latch twice before you go to bed. A coop that stays put is a coop that keeps your feathered friends safe. A coop that shifts in the wind is a coop that invites fowl play of the worst kind. So pour the concrete, laugh at the overkill jokes, and sleep soundly knowing your posts aren't going anywhere, even if your chickens try to.