"March First and I'm feeling lucky! I'm pretty sure we can get away today! I'll distract the people."
|Harriet is turning in to quite an instigator|
"Run, run run!!!"
"I ALLOWED myself to be lured back to the Chicken Yard. I could have stayed free, IF I had wanted to."
"In the end, we are better off in the chicken yard. Our people have shoveled the snow and put down shavings for us. It's deep snow and ice outside of the fence. Our Woman scatters kale, lettuce, and corn for us to find. She seems to think we like the game. We humor her. Outside there is no green anywhere! There are also NO oyster shells or grit anywhere to be seen."
"If they could just catch the weasel or ermine this would be Chicken Utopia. As it is, we all have bald tushes. It takes so little to entertain the humans...an egg a day and a bit of clucking. I guess we'll give the people a bit longer to try to solve the problem."
|We need to buy about a gal of purple stuff to paint their tushes - the demand|
over-ran our supply
Chicken update from the Woman - this is not the worst of the birds - but this is what we see. These are missing feathers, but they are intact. They haven't been ripped open and they aren't bleeding. We haven't seen anything new today.
The chicken's tush in the crate is scabbing over. We are looking for a portable fence so she can get outside without the others attacking her wounds.
We still haven't found the culprit on the trail cam or in the traps.