Not long after returning from this mornings walk our next door neighbour rang. There was a chicken in her front garden. I sent my wife out to capture it while Pluto and I sorted out a box from the garden shed. We ended with a large, blue, plastic container with lid. I picked up a jar of wild bird seed as I went out to the front. I
The chicken had surrendered peacefully to my wife who held it in her hands. It didn't look in a good way. a lot of its chest and side feathers were naked sticks. Perhaps it had been in a fight overnight with a cat or some other creature of the night.
The neighbour phoned the RSPCA. The didn't want to know. They did tell her that if it were a horse they should check the base of the tail for marks. She assured them it wasn't a horse. Not there policy to collect animals anymore. But they did accept donations.
There are two or three families who keep chickens nearby. None were at home.
We were getting bored by now. I suggested sunday lunch or a wildlife rescue centre not far away. (Secret World, they have their own website) (they accept donations as well).
The women decided Secret World. We took it there. They were more than happy to take it. they explained that she was quite young and that she may have been low in the pecking order in the flock and was being picked on by the others. Perhaps she was running away from home. she was certainly hungry. we gave her a good handful of bird feed before leaving home and she ate the lot. I put some water into the empty ice-cream carton I take in the car for Pluto to drink from. she promptly stood in it spilling the contents. We left Freda at Secret World, named after her break for freedom, and went and did some shopping.
I hope the viewer in France will contact me. I know it was a silly thing to do, writing after more than 35 years.
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