Chook Drama

Not long after we returned from NZ Lib's chook Myrtle went AWOL. On the first day of its absence I was concerned at lock up time when Henny hungrily followed me to their pen but Myrtle was nowhere to be seen. She'd been scarce for a day or two and reluctant to go in the previous couple of evenings so I thought she must be broody and have a nest somewhere.

Oh well, Foxy Loxy'll have a nice supper, I'll get another young bird, a brown one like Elvie's. She says they don't get broody as much as black ones.

A couple of days later I spotted Myrtle briefly, eating some of the bread I'd left out for Henny.

You little bugger.

No sooner had I seen her with some amusement on my part that she's survived than she was gone again, not to be seen for another couple of days. This time I'd returned from my walk and put the dogs dishes down to feed them then turned and walked a few paces back towards the shed when I heard a flapping noise and a dog squeal. Turning around I saw bully Myrtle hopping into Snowy's breakfast. She has it all over Snow who runs the other way when she employs the charge she learned from Rooster Lemon, whom you may recall met his demise last year.

You horrible savage chook.

I shoohed the thing away for poor Snow and stood guard while she ate her food. Pip is oblivious to all Myrtle's aggressive tactics and therefore the chook does not trouble her. There's a pecking order with the chooks and the dogs and Snow's at the bottom.

Over the next couple of weeks I looked high and low in the garden and shed for Myrtle's nest a number of times, and crawled under the house with a torch more than once looking for the stash of eggs. It was baffling me. Then one day I saw Myrtle on the deck, I had been nearby and hadn't seen her approach, then she disappeared again so quickly. So for umpteenth time I looked under and behind everything and being more thorough than previously I got down low and looked into the back of Pip's kennel. Sure enough there was the black feathered fool. As I reached in to pull out the bedding the stench hit me. There was a dozen and a half eggs in there some of which were broken.

You stinking horrible idiot chook.

I threw everything into a garbage gag, bedding and all. Rotten eggs exploded as I did this and it still stank to high heaven so I triple bagged it and put it in my neighbour's bin - they have moved out and their house is for sale so that was OK. Pip's kennel has a flat roof with a bit of carpet on top and I'd seen her lying on top of her kennel. I thought it was because of the warm balmy weather, but I now knew better, and also why a fox hadn't got it.

Within a day or two Myrtle was back to her normal nutty self; harassing, aggressive, noisy, always after food when you walk out the door. Both chooks are now laying in the shed, next to the fridge, against the back wall. I don't mind that. It's a stretch to get the eggs but at least I know where they are.