I got home at 5pm this evening after watching the music drama film Les Misérables. While I was still traumatised by the singing of Russell Crowe, I saw this dramatic scene outside my house:
Our missing hens were back! One was still on top of the fence, but another was in front of the house. At least they’re now back. Now, we need strategies to coerce them into the garden.
This hen was away last night and ended up in another resident’s back garden, on another road. The old lady who lives there is extremely nice. Last night I knocked on her house to alert her of an intruder, while she was watching a TV program on penguins. (I told you she is very nice.)
The hen had jumped from neighbour G’s immaculate garden to the back of her house, on top of the pillar. This afternoon, this kind lady came over to inform us that the hen had come down and rested in her garden. Luckily, after an exhausting night, the hen was calmer and she was easily picked up by my husband.
But, once the hen got inside the garden, she flew again, landing herself in our front garden. There was something she didn’t like about our garden. Perhaps she was traumatised by the death of her friend.
It took another 20 minutes from the concerted effort of husband-and-wife team to first corner her, then cover her with a huge laundry basket and cuddle her firmly back to the garden. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were secretly filmed by some neighbours while we were trying to catch the hen. People must have enjoyed this live entertainment from the Neighbour from Hell.
Since the killing of a hen and the escape of two hens, I’ve gathered a few interesting facts:
1) Hens like hiding their eggs. While searching our garden for any possible attackers, we found about 20 old eggs under a bush. Why did they do that?
2) We got to speak to every neighbour in the close. We become chatty neighbours. It was surreal.
3) We entered 3 English gardens in the process of hen catching. These are all immaculate gardens. Grass is lush; patio is neat; bush is trimmed. One garden even has a fountain and another has a huge vegetable patch. My sense of inferiority is an understatement.
4) The experience of hen catching can be as awkward as listening to Russell Crowe singing in Les Misérables.
This evening, we’ve cleared the garden and secured the chicken coop. The girls should be safe in there.
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- “Hens down! More hens down!”
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