The neighbor dog, Sandy, had snatched her tail feathers off when Buffy got out of the run. Sandy understood that I was not happy with her behavior. Still, I didn't know if she would find the loose hen too hard to resist.
Well, it just wasn't much of a life, even for a chicken. She no longer laid whole eggs, just the occasional round yolkless one. Deciding that it was the only thing I could do, I shooed her out of the fence to spend her days in freedom. She had her own water and feed and plenty of greens. She could go under the coop to escape Sandy.
Chickens are notorious dumb clucks, but surprisingly, over about a month, she became trained with bread bits to get out the gate first thing and come in the gate at dusk. She is so dim that now she has forgotten there was a treat involved. Such a bird-brain.
When I come with the afternoon treats (over-ripe tomatoes) she comes running for her share. There is something terribly comical about a hen running; power-walking thighs and drumsticks..
Now, she is adding her egg to the others in the nest box before leaving for the day. She stays near the run and has a nice spot in the shady tall grass behind the coop fence.
Sandy stays well away from the chicken coop now. She is rewarded with rather a lot of dog biscuits for such a small dog.
My experiment with letting the rooster and two other hens out for greens was not so successful. Looking out, I saw he was leading them on what amounted to a cross-country trip for chickens. I had to lure them back at dusk with a trail of bread crumbs.
Meanwhile, Buffy is enjoying her life on the outside.
