Henny Chesney is now allowed to move around outside as she pleases. I’m keeping her near the house, which is at least 200+ yards from the barn and any other chicken. She still comes inside in the evening to her ‘coop’ in my bathroom. She even knows that’s where she goes, because I left the door open for a few minutes and caught her walking inside. She went in, laid her egg and walked back out to the grass.
She also likes to play games, but not fun games. More like ‘see how fast I can grab things that hit the floor and give my humans a heart attack’ kind of games. Like a fishing lure that looked like a minnow, but had two treble hooks on it! No one even knows where it came from. Henny Chesney found it, grabbed it like a thief, and was smacking it against the ground to break the ‘fish’ so she could swallow it. I grabbed her and had to carefully pull it out of her beak. This chicken is giving me anxiety.
Our little Rat Terrorist dog walked into Henny’s bathroom and dropped his ball one day, so Henny decided she wanted to chase it. She pecked after the dog to make him leave and then went after the ball. It’s the rubber kind with the ball inside. She hops up, pecks the ball, it rolls away, so she hops after it to peck it again.
Henny loves being back outside. Her favorite thing to do is to take a good dust bath. I’m pretty sure that’s what she was doing inside the horse stall when she got stepped on. This hen is a boss and knows what she wants, she’s only tolerating my help at this point.
And to think I never really liked chickens, other than fried or grilled. They are definitely growing on me.
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