I never knew chickens could speak English … until last night.
At exactly 2:49 am I was woken to the sound of a screamed “help, HELP”.
It was coming from outside and I realised it was one of my chooks …and that the dark shape slinking around their cage was a fox.
(well at first I fixed my myopic eyes on what I thought was the fox only to discover that it was just a shadow and the actual fox was sitting much closer to the window I was looking out of).
Their cage is really quite sturdy
…and yet I worried about my hens.
So I did what any self-respecting woman would do in the middle of the night – I poked hubby until he woke up and told him to go and sort out the kerfuffle.
So her turned on the flood lights and went back to bed … ’cause you know how much foxes hate floodlights right????
Apparently they aren’t too bothered by floodlights because it was back within minutes. This time I had a good view of it poking a paw through the mesh to try and hurt my beloved Henrietta.
So I poked hubby in the side yet again.
This time hubby barricaded the cage.
He was asleep within minutes but I spent an hour listening for sneaky Mr Fox to come back …. thankfully he didn’t and the hens were OK.
But why I’m sharing this story is because of my 6 yo beautiful, loving daughter’s reaction:
“Mum, I’m going to trap the fox tonight. Then I’ll spear it do death with a stick, chop off its tail and bum it over the fence”
I’ve raised a psychopath!
(No idea why she wants its tail and not really sure what “bumming it over the fence” means either).
Strange child must take after her father…..