Free Range Chickens (or A Roundup Gone Awry)

It all started when we decided to let the chickens out of the chicken house for the afternoon.

We were told that every once in awhile on a nice sunny day it's a good idea to let them out of the chicken yard to roam for a few hours.  The day we came to stay the entire feathery flock was out roaming around the yard and we had to stop the car in the lane because there were probably 30 chickens milling about.  I still don't know how many there are but there are a LOT.

 
We were met in the lane by the lady of the house who very smoothly (with outstretched arms) walked toward the flock and guided them into the fenced area and then into the chicken yard.  She said that at the end of the day the "girls" all want to go back into their living quarters so they're easy to collect.  They go willingly.  In fact, they're eager to get back to their little house.  All ya gotta do is stretch out your arms and walk slowly toward them and they'll just all gather together and march back home.  Easy as pie.  We were impressed.

So today we did that...let them all out into the fresh sunshine so they could roam freely.  Free range in action.  They were loving it.

They were loving it so much that they did NOT want to go back in.   We absolutely followed the correct procedure to the letter but the "girls" were having none of it.  No indeedy, they ran hither and yon and no amount of pleading and arm stretching could convince them that it was time to return to their little nests.

We managed to herd (is that the right word?) most of them to the chicken yard door (the one I closed behind me, if you remember that episode).  Opened the door and tried to shoo them in.  Most of them cooperated but a half dozen of them took off in the opposite direction and the ducks (who are not allowed out of the chicken yard because they can fly) got out.  That was not a good thing.

They scurried here and there with us right behind them.  I even tried to bribe them with a little of the chicken scratch that they love so much that they practically kill each other trying to get at it when we sprinkle it in their pen.

Then, to add insult to injury, that rascally rooster took after me as I was trying to get the hens out from under the chicken house.   I was not pleased.

By the time we got everyone but two back into captivity, we were well and truly pooped.   The last two had crawled under the fence gate and were scampering around the driveway.  We finally managed to corner them.  Jack picked them up and I lifted up the roof of the nesting boxes and we plunked them down inside.

So that's the end of that!    No more Mr. and Mrs. Nice Guy...those girls are grounded for the rest of our stay.

NOTE:  I took these pictures when we first let them out.  I wanted to take more as we were putting them back but needless to say we had our hands full so that didn't happen.