Chicken on the lam
This is the road beside my house. All the overgrown stuff is on a retaining wall and hanging over. You probably cannot see it, but there is a little yellow spot near the end of the greenery that is a chick high-tailing it home. They know my car, so she ran for her life, like I was a threat. She was walking until she saw the car. I had caught two and the third one just ran home.
Can you see the yellow spot now?
side yard where she ran to her pen
After running up beside the retaining wall, she ran into the yard and beside the house. The pen is right back there beyond the stone bench and trees. I can see her, but she is probably not visible to anyone else. I have to drive the car because the trek to the neighbor and street behind me is too much for me. I am still ill from lungs and head problems. Even on a good day, the back would not handle all this walking.
This was three days ago. Exbf was here today and checked on them often to make sure they were home. When he went out at 5 pm, two of the little ones were on the table where they sleep and the other was under the table. So, he shut them up. I don't understand why they roam some days and others just go in the pen three hours before sundown!
Are they flying or walking to the neighbour's? You could try clipping their wings if they're hopping the fence.
ReplyDeleteWendy,
DeleteThey walk! However, flying is their only hope of escape from predators, so I made up my mind never to clip wings. They apparently go to the front of the yard, step out into the street, walk along the side retaining wall, step into the neighbor's yard, go from her back side yard to her front yard.
Patsy Cline was bought as an adult, so she does not know the rules. I taught Thelma to stay in the yard when she was a chick. Now, since Patsy Cline came on the scene, they go out of my yard.
Perhaps Patsy Cline should be introduced ....to the stew pot!
ReplyDeleteSue,
DeleteYou read my mind!
Love the chick. And hens which visit and lay eggs are paying rent. Or for the meals they help themselves to.
ReplyDeleteEC,
ReplyDeleteThe eggs were the size of a nickel and unwelcome. I just kept saving them and putting them on her steps, a dozen in a bowl with a note to keep them home. Since there was a male and female, I imagine those were fertile eggs which if I had a broody hen might have been fun. (I am not against the eating of fertile eggs, by the way.)
Nothing could make up for the pooping on the picnic table or scratching the tarp which protected my hens' home and yard.
DeleteWiley chickens!
ReplyDeleteM.E.,
DeleteThey are going to be the death of me!
Get thee a chicken tractor!
ReplyDelete