I mean the chicken, not my mother in law whom the chicken is named after (well, on second thoughts … 😂😂) – no, no, I definitely mean the chicken!
When we named them on the day we got them, we didn’t know at that time that chickens really do have personalities! Ethel was a little smaller than the others, as as my mother in law is about Yoda size, we thought that the small chicken should be Ethel.
Well it turns out that chicken Ethel is a sandwich short of a picnic!
Last week we got so fed up with her keep trying to keep her out of the veg garden, stop her eating the dog food and drinking the rusty water (used for the trees when they need iron), tormenting the dog etc that Rog picked her up and walked down the end of the second terrace and plonked her down – far away from mischief … only 5 minutes later she was back. So Rog picked her up again and took her away … 5 minutes later, yep, back again. And so the game went on …
Now normally, we thought that chickens wouldn’t like being carried about very much. And when they don’t like something their necks shrink, and head goes right down to the body.
Well it turns out that Ethel loves it. Head up, looking about, not a bit nervous or unhappy. She’s almost saying ‘wow, look at meeeee!’ So now as we carry her away from mischief, we sing ‘her song’:
I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the Sky, I think about it every night and day, just spread my wings and fly away ….
Not quietly either, full on singing – she seems to like her song too! Maybe it’s not just the chicken whose cheese has slid off her cracker!