Thursday, June 18, 2009

Feeding the Wildlife

Alack aday, Madame Reynard has purloined my broody hen, leaving a trail of feathers up the paddock and two bereaved adolescent chicks to fend for themselves.
They are popped in with their aunts in the big hen run for safe keeping with an electric fence strung round as an  additional safeguard.
As darkness falls, their aunts, with a remarkable lack of feeling, refuse to admit them to the sanctuary of the hen house.  In despair they flap over the fence and dash for the safety of the stable , up their ladder, and into the safety of the little house which they shared with their late lamented mama.
Come the morning I catch them and despite their despairing cheeps put them back in the main run. 
This occurs for three days. Finally I surrender and have their little house transferred to the main run.
Will they realise their house is now close at hand. Come dusk I stand guard, they have a brief quiet conversation, the contents of which I only partially catch.
Is this our home? Shall we risk it? Cautiously they climb the ladder . 
Home, Sweet Home! they chirrup and settle down for the night.
Clearly not as dumb as some!

1 Comments:

Blogger smahman said...

The maim run - I like the sound of THAT.

12:48 pm  

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