It snowed today. Not more than two inches, but that made a spot in our yard slippery. As I threw a bit of garbage in the outside bin, my foot slipped. I was heading head over heels, knocking the bin over, but somehow saved myself from a complete fall. Thank goodness. Too many friends have had falls lately that left them bruised and hurting. I’m happy to have saved myself today.

After bringing in the mail, I went to check on my seven hens and give them some table scraps.

Since the hens have been docile, I left the outside door open. That was a mistake. One white hen raced passed me when I opened the coop door. She stopped suddenly when her feet hit the snow.

I figured this was my chance to recapture her, but she had other ideas.

Not liking the two inches of snow, the hen flapped into the air and flew about twenty feet away to an open space under a nearby pine tree.

Grumpily, I followed after her, hoping she wouldn’t go farther afield.

The hen did think about escaping under her favorite bush, but the snow made her rethink that exit.

Little by little I turned her toward the coop, my arms outstretched giving her directions.

She went left. She went right and then back again. The cold snow stopped her again.

“You’ll have to fly home,” I told her and to my surprise that’s what she did, flapping right to the open door.

At least she was home. I returned to the house, carefully stepping over the slippery ground.

This episode gives me more reason to rid myself of my little flock, but the question still remains. Where?

Copyright © 2019 Susan Manzke, All rights reserved