|Dumb and dumber|
Many hens won't walk on snow.
I don't blame them really
But when, at the end of the day, they refuse to return to the safety and warmth of a hen house because their feet are cold , well they can become right little pains in the arse.
Last night around ten pm and in sub zero temperatures
I tried to cajole the bachelors from the top of the hen house roof.
Using the only thing to hand ( the kitchen mop) I managed to get them off the roof only to have them crash land in the two separate neighbours' gardens.
Now I don't know about you, but galloping around someone else's garden in the dark whilst carrying a kitchen mop doesn't really cut the mustard but gallop around I did until I had cornered one of the stupid little bastards in sailor John's compost heap and had effectively hog tied it inside my beanie hat.
The other daft sod crashed arse over tit in Trendy Carol's garden , so I had to be as quiet as I could not to disturb her dogs ( not an easy task on a gravel drive I can tell you)
Here, twice I fell over garden features disguised by the snow before nabbing the little c€*t as he pushed his head into the privet hedge .( thus thinking himself invisible)
I was cold and wet and numb by the time I got into the cottage.
And very pissed off
Here I fell asleep on the couch covered in dogs.
I didn't wake up until 6 am this morning