Second proof of an event we knew was happening was at lunchtime when we, and our pack of ten assorted size dogs went indoors. Just as I was tucking into the best cheese beanos ever the death squawking of a hen from the garden was a call to arms. We got to the backdoor just in time to see a fox scurry up the bank at the side of our cliff doomed hen in its mouth. A fat forty something man in slippers was no match for the quick brown fox who jumped over the fence while the lazy dogs watched on in amusement. Just to add insult to injury, by the time I got back to the kitchen the vermin cats had finished my lunch. The work on the chicken pen has moved up the jobs list but its a way to go before it gets to the top.
Then the cosmic balance was readjusted as Geisha set out to prove she is not as clever as she thinks she is and got a bit stuck with Daffodil in a bucket.
Smallholding is never dull!