Mother Clucker

We have chickens. We have one chicken in particular, Violet, who, as we discovered today, has a skill: escaping.

The chickens are in a pen with six-foot-tall chain-link walls. I was working in the yard earlier today, and out of the corner of my eye I see a flash of white. I take a closer look, and there's Violet on the wrong side of the wall. I catch her, put her back in with the rest of the flock, and go back to my work. A few minutes later, there she is again, outside the pen. I get her back in again, block up a couple of spots where she might be squeezing through, and go back to work. Not two minutes later, I learn her secret -- I happen to look up just as she's going over the wall. With cat-like skills, she's catching quick claw-holds on the chain link to power herself up and over whenever she wants to get out.

The other surprise was when I found out why she's been getting out. She kept going for this one spot tucked behind some boards leaning up against a wall, so I pulled them back and found... eggs! Nine of them! All fresh (passed the float test with nary a bobble)! Apparently she doesn't like laying in the nesting boxes with the other girls, so she's made her own spot.

Normally we'd turn a problem chicken into dinner, but those eggs? They're jumbos, some of them double-yolkers. It means she's one of our best layers.

She lives. She's in detention until we can figure something out, but she lives.

Life with chickens never ceases to be entertaining.