This morning, after a very poor nights sleep, we arose to take up the hunt once more. As dawn arrived I kept an ear out for our missing girls amidst the normally musical chorus of blackbirds, starlings, tits, doves, jays, ravens and crows (not to mention an increasing number of fat pigeons – must stop over-loading the feeders) and soon heard that morning chuckle that advertised the successful survival of another night. Looking out of thew bedroom window I could see one in one next door garden, and another in the other. No sign of the third.
I got up showered and dressed, and went out into light rain. One bird immediately saw me and raced for the hedgerow, so I went to the shed to get a beanpole, prodding persuasion in mind. As I opened the shed door I was met by a face-full of startled chicken – the third girl had been in the shed all night but, brown being brown, we’d missed her. I had her after a brief flurry and, flight feathers clipped on the right side, she was placed unceremoniously with the three original birds. 3-0 became 2-1.
The second chicken was hiding in the wood-shed next door, but made for the trees when I came a-hunting. I failed to catch her but she decided to fly back over the fence into our garden, where I left her to calm down. The third took to racing back around the houses like before, then dived into a hedge from which we couldn’t find head nor tail of her. In the meantime the second one was exploring the shed… Bingo! Another one in the bag – I mean chicken run.
The rain is really coming down right now, and we’ve called off the hunt. I think we’re now into extra time, but the score is now Chickens 1 – Humans 2. There’s a bit more sorting out to be done in the chicken run yet, but Waiting Is.