Is he or isn't he?

A friend asked me recently if Fizz was behaving liked a gentleman with the new girls.   Personally, I wouldn't use the words "Fizz" and "gentleman" in the same sentence.  Oh hang on, I just did!

Those of you who've been reading my blog for a while will know that the answer came complete with hysterical laughter from me.   If he was anything like a gentleman, he would not have jumped up on my lap, done the biggest, sloppiest poo on my trousers, then jump off again as if nothing untoward had happened.

To be fair, he does call the girls over when he finds something nice for them to eat.  You would have thought that, by now, they would have learned that he sometimes has the strangest idea of what they might enjoy munching.   On the menu yesterday was my brand new, bright red watering can!   Having rushed over to see what he'd found, the girls then stalked off in a collective huff.

As far as the newbies are concerned, Fizz can't quite make his mind up.  He's bonked Nonami once and is trying to work out how to have his way with Prissy when she's so much taller than him.  Scrat keeps a low profile in the hope that he'll mistake Nonami for her.  But he's just as likely to take a truculent run at them, when all they want is a corner of the dustbath.

He's a right little oddball, but you just can't help loving the lad.

Have hen; will travel

Chickens can be so naughty.  They get into all sorts of places that they really shouldn't be;  I've seen pictures of them in kitchens, lounges - one even made herself comfortable in the bathroom sink!  But a couple of my Facebook friends have had their hens go on shopping trips!  Here are their stories.

A Welsh friend's hen went off to the local co-op in the back of a workman's car.  He was operating a digger at her home, and come lunchtime he drove off in his car to the shop to get something to eat.  He had made the mistake of leaving all the windows of his car open when it was parked at her home - a clear invitation to passing chickens to check inside.   When he came out of the shop, he turned to put his lunch on the back seat and there was a hen!  She had laid an egg and was sitting tight enjoying the outing.

A New Zealand friend's hen hitched an even longer ride.   Her husband drove 20 km to the shop to pick up the pig veg.   Before he leaves on any trip, he always checks the back of the truck because there are invariably chickens in the crate that's kept there. He shooshes them out and then if any hop back on they usually hop out again pdq and go on their way.   Not this time though.

When he arrived at the veggie shop there was a "bok bok" coming from the crate!   There, tucked up in the corner of it, was a very pretty hen.  He put her under his arm, went into the shop to ask if he could have a box and popped her in that for the return journey.

She'd been down windy back roads and then along the motorway at 90 km an hour, huddled down in the crate.   What an adventure!   Not that she appreciated it;  when he got home and opened up the box, she hopped out, shouted at him and went and had something to eat!   That hen has no idea how lucky she is!