Chasing chickens

I understand why farmers never go on holiday: we just spent half an hour retrieving escaped chickens roosting around the garden, at midnight, after four days away in Rome. The schools had closed for local elections, and tomorrow is a national holiday. Thankfully the children missed the drama as they fell asleep in the car and had been carried to bed on arrival. 

Chocolate (one of our chicks from September, now a champion layer with a very fluffy bottom) was found roosting on a pile of wood, soaking wet since Mr T had been watering the parched vegetable garden. Tosca-the-champion-layer was in a self-dug burrow under a hedge, sitting on a secret nest of nine eggs. Those two cheeky chickens had obviously been ganging up on our kind neighbour who was meant to be paid in eggs for his efforts of feeding them all! Brownie-and-her-two-chicks were pathetically nesting on the ground, as she had obviously failed to get them into either coop. She was risking all for them, dear thing. The only other time she got locked out, in a violent winter rainstorm, she had flown up into an olive tree. That time, we found her the next morning, very very wet, still in the tree looking petrified. At least this time she was sufficiently dopey to allow herself to be caught, together with her precious two chicks. Che avventura! But all pets, thankfully, alive. The guinea pigs, left to fend for themselves with an insane pile of home-grown garden hay, seem to have eaten most of it…

Still, thanks to a painter in the Vatican museum, we are now assured that there are both guinea pigs and chickens in Paradise. This being the Garden of Eden, they apparently do not fear foxes at night…

Now, to bed. Safe, like all my animals. JJ


About pragmaticpatchwork

Academic and quilter
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2 Responses to Chasing chickens

  1. Naughty little chooks! Sounds like they’re keeping you too busy to sew, but oh so cute with it 🙂
    LPC xxx

  2. Pamela says:

    Sounds like an adventure!

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