Given the general level of mayhem that exists in our house, nobody else tends to remember to let the chickens out, or shut them back in their run each night. I usually find myself letting them out on a morning and feeding them, and wandering back up the garden in the dead of night to lock them back in their run again. For whatever reason we happened to be up late last night, and while turning lights off it suddenly struck me that I hadn’t shut the chickens in.
“Have you shut the chickens in?”
W huffed and stomped off up the garden - and came back in tears.
“I was too late”. We thought all three had been taken, but this morning it transpired that one had survived - no doubt she escaped into the undergrowth during the attack. W is therefore off to the farm this morning to buy two more chickens. Unfortunately one of the ones we lost was “the naughty white one” - chosen by our youngest daughter. We have a very sad little four year old today… (at least until she has a new chicken from the farm, and forgets all about the old one). While it’s annoying and upsetting, I’m guessing the upside to the whole story is that our kids are learning the realities of life, and nature.