Kiki woke the ever tolerant husband up at 5.15 this morning. He in turn woke me up, and I dragged myself down to the coop in a semi conscious state. I asked the ever tolerant husband to shut the pop hole last night, but he obviously was unaware of the silkies house breaking abilities. If the door is even slightly ajar, they use their beaks as a crow bar and escape. Hence the dawn shrieking.
I eyeballed the gobby hen. She looked back at me. I grabbed her and stuffed her unceremoniously back in to the coop, firmly closing the door. Returning to bed, I had a lovely two hours of lying anxiously, awaiting an understandably furious neighbour at the door. No knock came, but this cannot continue.
With a heavy heart, I informed our youngest child that the silkies might have to be rehomed. Many tears followed. The new chook palace is coming tomorrow, and this has put a dampener on it. When the pop hole is securely closed, the Convent is pitch black inside. This keeps the girls sleeping. The new house is well vented, which means that there will be more internal light. My fear is that the silkies might take up singing and dancing even when confined. And dawn is, well, dawning ever earlier.
This morning, I was adament that the gobby duo would have to leave. However, in the bright sunshine, watching them sunbathe with the rest of the flock, I have my doubts. The early morning serenades only began when the coop was moved on to the grass for the patio work to be completed. I suppose its feasible that once installed in the new coop, they will settle. Hmmm.
Rehoming the silkies will be awful. Yet not as awful as the penny dropping with the ever tolerant husband that if the flock shrinks by two, the chook palace becomes unnecessary. Oh dear.