#12, the hen who had a chunk eaten out of her by the Araucanas earlier in the summer, got a Jeep ride last night around nine. Physically she healed up pretty fast, scarring over the awful hole in her side and regrowing all her feathers. But her behavior was so inert for weeks I expected to find her dead nearly every morning. But her appetite improved, she stopped looking like a skeleton with feathers, and just in the past few days she has chippered up and seemed to rejoin the world.
So last night after she bedded down I quietly went into the garden spot where she’s been since I slaughtered the last Araucana, crated her up, and took her back to her sisters. I wanted to reintroduce her after everybody was asleep to avoid possible conflict, but as soon as she was in the Big Chickenhouse she started clamoring to get out of the crate. She ran over to the flock – I swear she cuddled up to Mayor Quimby – and everything seemed fine. Went back to check on her just now and she acts like she was never gone. Not that you can really tell from this phone photo, but she’s the one who isn’t half-plucked.
Just as I got to Landlady’s place this morning, the well guys were firing up their backhoe.
She has tried literally for months to get somebody out to fix the broken pipe or casing or whatever it is that’s made a swimming pool of the inside of the wellhouse. Now they’re going to dig it out and replace the wellhead with a NEW and IMPROVED model that’s completely underground. At last.