Although we do not really notice weekends are any different to the rest of the week, we do tend to start a bit later on Sundays and, as this morning, have a farmhouse breakfast including eggs from our own free range hens of course.
Yesterday morning I beat the bounds with the dogs as usual and noticed two foxes in an adjoining field. Our neighbour, Rodney, often stops for a chat when we are on our walk and I mentioned the foxes. He told me that they feed the foxes as they like to have them around to keep the rabbits down. They run a nursery (specialising in helibores) and so do not like their stock being ruined by the bunnies. He also told me that renard had taken one of their ornamental ducks recently.
Imagine my horror this morning when I looked out of the window on the way to make our morning tea. Bold as brass was a fox sitting outside the henhouse. I rushed out in my PJs and shouted at him and he dived through the fence and down the field but then stopped. I thought I would let the dogs out of their kennel (a converted lorry unit) as they usually rush out full of noise and excitement. Of course this morning they just came out really calmly and quietly.
Still the fox moved off anyway - obviously thinking the odds of a chicken dinner were poor now.
I am always careful to lock the hens in at night but I shall be even more careful in future and have a good look around before letting them out in the morning. Whilst I have no particular affection for the chickens individually, we really enjoy the lovely eggs they produce and the undemanding way they live their lives - except when they think their food is coming - then they dance on my shoulders and weave in and out of my legs.
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