There is no shame in admitting that something you love turned into a frantic game of fowl play overnight, but reading about your ripped hardware cloth and chewed hot wire, we feel that gut punch right along with you. Our take is simple: you did not fail your girls, and whatever clawed its way into their run is a calculated predator, not a reflection of your effort. We see a person who installed hot wire, secured hardware cloth, and moved heaven and earth to protect their flock, and the fact that a mountain lion or some other determined beast ripped through anyway is not a failure, it is a reminder that nature plays by its own, deeply unkind rules. We are heartbroken with you, and we are also furious on your behalf, because you did everything right, and sometimes that still is not enough.
The details you shared, the hot wire holder chewed in two, the cloth pulled apart at the middle rather than a seam, point to something with serious upper body strength and a taste for chicken. A mountain lion taking down a cow nearby is a solid clue, but honestly, whether it was a big cat or a crafty coyote, the lesson is the same: your setup needs to become a fortress, not just a fence. We have seen this before in our own community, and it is why we keep coming back to stories like Help me crack the code on these velvety mystery feathers and My hen's parked for the day: she'll eat but won't put weight on that leg, because we all share that mix of curiosity and worry that keeps us refreshing threads at 2 a.m. What we want you to do next is not just patch the hole, but double-layer your hardware cloth with a heavier gauge, bury the bottom edge at least a foot underground, and consider a motion-activated light or sprinkler near the run. And for your daughter's show birds in that temporary housing? Treat that as a ticking clock, not a safe space, move them into the main coop or a fully enclosed dog kennel tonight, because predators do not care about show season.
We also want to gently push back on the guilt you are carrying, because we know it is heavy. You mentioned feeling like you failed them almost as soon as you moved, but look at the evidence: your other girls are alive, your rooster is intact, and you are out there walking the entire property to find your missing hen. That is not failure, that is love with calluses. The real takeaway here is that predator-proofing is not a one-and-done task; it is a weekly ritual of checking for loose staples, shifting soil, and new paw prints. So here is your homework: after you patch the wire, take a photo of your run and post it for feedback. Let us be the second set of eyes that catches what you might have missed, because we have all been there, and we would rather you learn from our scars than lose another feathered friend. And if you do find her hiding under a bush, clucking like nothing happened, we will be the first to celebrate, but if you do not, know that you gave her a good life, and that counts for more than any fence.