Chicken on the run

Now and then I give the girls a little treat and when I trotted down the garden path earlier today, dish of chopped grapes in hand, Ginger was missing.  Immediately my brain switched to panic mode.  Think, try and stay calm.  Have I got my glasses on?  (Check, yes.)  I count the hens again.  I checked the coup for a second time, then a third time.  There was absolutely no Ginger.

It felt like I was that young mum of years ago when NOD, aged 3, played hide and seek under the table and for a split second, she was out of my sight.  Once again, my chest heaved with the fear of being branded Evil Mother.  They will put me in prison for this.  How could I be so careless? (Incidentally such is my capacity for guilt that any major or mini crisis in NOD’s life is as a direct result of that particular incident.)

I scanned the garden, beyond the run and across to the orchard and saw a small, russet shape.   Head down, tail up, she was rooting around the old apple tree that supports the swinging bench.  I was ecstatic with relief and called her name, holding up the dish which glistened with her favourite green and red grapes. 

Never to miss ‘an opportunity’ she was quicker than quick and running towards me, as fast as two little legs could carry a living creature.  In fact she was running so fast, she was hovering off the ground with her wings out stretched, like an eagle intent on its prey.   At once I realised my foolishness and a second wave of fear engulfed me.  I AM HOLDING THE GRAPE DISH AND THERE IS NO BARRIER BETWEEN ME AND THIS BIRD.  (Please insert the sound track from Alfred Hitchcock’s, The Birds.)

I needed to act fast so I unhooked the corral fence and nipped in sharpish – for my own protection.  Ginger was in no mood for games.  She flapped her wings harder, hit the turbo boost button and despite having a clipped wing, she flew straight over the fence towards me.  I was so stunned that she could actually do this that I forgot to eject the grapes from the dish.  In an instant she was upon me, like a vulture possessed.  I screeched.  Tweedledum and Tweedledee headed straight into the coop for cover.  There were a few seconds of scuffling, feather ruffling and arm waving.....

...and then Ginger cleaned up all the grapes. 

I recovered my confidence.   I made a grab for Ginger and got hold of her, not on the first attempt but certainly within 10 minutes.  However, learning to be a rugby tackler will I am sure, hold me in good stead for the future.  I picked Ginger up and gave her a very hard stare, one of my Paddington Bear hard stares.

It was indeed a relief she was back safe and sound.  Though I do wish the greengrocer would label his grapes ‘Use with Extreme Caution’ - just to remind me.