Runaway Chicken

I was watching one of those "make you cry" videos about a homeless dog who had been rescued. And yes, it made me cry. And then I had to go hug my dogs...and my cats...and my chickens. Except when I went out to hug my chickens I saw that Barry (my husband gave our hens boy names, that's for another blog) was on the outside of the fence. She had literally flown the coop.

So I ran around the house and beside our neighbor's house and attempted to get Barry. In the process I startled my neighbor who then startled me when he opened his window and asked if I was a prowler. Then nice guy that he is, he came out and tried to help me round up Barry...but Barry had other plans and ran right at my neighbor who laughingly declared that he, himself, was a chicken and went back into his house.

Barry ran around the front of my house and then to my carport. I dashed in the house and woke up my little guy to help me round up our runaway. When we went out Barry was nowhere to be found. We looked everywhere. And then I saw our cat staring and I followed his gaze. There was Barry. My little guy and I got the gates to the back yard open, herded Barry into the backyard and into the chicken run.

Whew! She owes us an omelette!

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