We still only have the two white ones (see the new chickenhouse post for a photo of one - I didn't have the heart to photograph today), with no survivors returning. I have mended the coop, but tonight they will stay indoors so Mr. Fox won't start a habit of chicken terror.
The girls have done well, responding well to the remaining two and not at all wanting to give up on chickens. I realized later that this was my fear - that they would disengage from the process, not wanting to love the remaining two. In fact, we have one survivor I wasn't counting because he seemed so much beyond hope. Last night, Brian brought in one, with wing broken (and perhaps a leg?), neck at an angle, who was alive. He set it on an old pair of soft cut-off sweats in the cage in the garage, and with a lot of love and water/food delivery from Emily, he seems a bit more perky than he did this morning, and looks at us, and tries to get up every so often. I told Emily that if he survives the night I'll call the vet - I really thought the chicken would give up and die. This is a black one - I *think* the one Hazel called Stripey, though the stripe is gone and only a few white feathers remain among his mostly black ones.
So we have three chickens - 2 are roosters - but now, these are staying with us, unless the neighbors have us arrested for crowing.