Fox #1: ‘Did you ever manage to get out to that lovely little place I told you about? Divine menu, darling, simply divine. Can’t believe we’ve not discovered it before.’

Fox #2: ‘Well I did, Reynard, and thank you so much for the recommendation. The electric fencing isn’t effective, you’re quite right. I popped in for a late lunch yesterday, and had a simply marvellous cockerel.’

Fox #1: ‘Yummy, yah?’

Fox #2: ‘ Totally, darling, although I was a leeetle disappointed that hens were off the menu. I think someone was a bit greedy before, yah? I could only see one and that was a Brahma, and I always think they’re tough.’

Fox #1: ‘You’re just too picky, darling, it’ll be lovely with a spot of slow munching. Meet you there for lunch?’

* * *

I am out for most of the day. Very tempted to tuck Mrs Brahma – who was chased horribly by my geese this morning, the rotten buggers – under my arm and take her with me. Leaving her in the run is tantamount to making a present of her to Foxy, but it’s hot today and I feel she wouldn’t enjoy it. Hairy hubby reacted badly when I requested a proper hen run, with a wire ceiling. Poor henny-penny, what shall we do? 

2 Responses

  1. Oh my word, I am laughing so hard at the fox conversation. Your poor hens.

    Also, sorry to hear about your interview being twisted. Damn journalists.

  2. […] I shall borrow again, because I’m tired and lazy, from last spring’s near-identical poultry perils: […]

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