For the record, I didn’t hang that door…

I recently laid down a bunch of new straw in Landlady’s Big Chickenhouse. Chickens love to scratch straw around looking for goodies, and 13 chickens can scratch a lot of straw. It’s not unusual for me to find it difficult to open the door, because of all the straw they’ve shoveled in front of it. Then I have to push.

Today I had to push. I wasn’t quite ready for the result…

The hens, of course, found this just the most horrifying thing that had ever happened. Technically I suppose it was the most horrifying thing that had ever happened, to them at least, but they treat all unforeseen events that way.

(sigh)And so there was nothing to do but take the boys home and come back with some tools. The doorframe, which was never very much in the first place, had of course just completely fallen apart so it took quite a while to fix. And it was cold, and my shoulder hurt, and I was in a growly mood…

And mostly the chickens huddled out in the farthest corner of their yard while all this was going on, waiting for the second act of the holocaust that would surely erase them all from the face of the earth. But toward the end, clearly quite against her better judgment, one of the ladies – bless her heart…

…decided she just couldn’t hold that egg in for one more minute. So she came in and found a nesting box, complaining all the while at the tumult and confusion. I’m supposed to run a more reputable establishment.

I did eventually get the door fixed.