Breaking Out

The new chicks are proving to be little upstarts. Not content with their lot in the garage, the little madams keep making bids for freedom. Now, initially, I would return Purdy (head trouble maker) to the brooder, and there she would stay. No more. She has recruited Celia for her escapologist escapades, and now there is no stopping them.

I am not a killjoy, and ordinarily wouldn't mind too much. When you're trying to sell your house, though, and have to show prospective buyers the garage, you'd rather that the mini poo piles were restricted to their designated area. Instead, little dollops of chick poo are turning up in the most unexpected of places. Like my welly. Or on top of the poultry spice. Eugh.

Now that the chooklets are 12 weeks old, I am turning the heat lamp off in the day (they're never in the brooder to use it, any way). Therefore, I can cover the top of the run. With a flash of inspiration, I covered the roof of the brooder with some trellis. Considering the problem solved, I peered down at the new recruits with a hint of triumph. Purdy assesssed this development silently. I returned to the human quarters feeling quite pleased with myself.

An hour later, I went to the garage to find some string and found Purdy and Celia sitting atop the garlic powder, which is itself atop the mini coop. Purdy then dropped a curry poo to punctuate the point. I have no idea how they escaped, and can only visualise ladders and a pulley system.

Chooklets 1, Human 0.