It started when I let Peggy and Tina out for a little free range action on Wednesday evening around dusk. They seemed kind of antsy after being cooped up in the tractor all day, and I thought they deserved some fun. The thought crossed my mind that it would be getting dark soon and maybe I should let them out some other time, but decided to let them out anyway. I should have listened to my brain.
At first, everything was lovely. They stuck close to the chicken tractor and wandered slowly around the nearby dirt, happily pecking and peeping. It was when I tried to pick them up to put them in their brooder for the night that the trouble started.
Tina, the black sex-link, is slower and easier to catch. So, it only took me a moment to trap her and grab her. Her sister Peggy, on the other hand, proved a more formidable opponent. As the twilight faded into dark, I chased that little chicken up, down and all over the yard. She jumped up on walls, hid under bushes, scrambled over the wood pile and even tried to squeeze through the fence into the front yard. She even flew a couple of times (as much as a chicken can fly).
I was getting exhausted, and it was almost completely dark, so I grabbed a flashlight and a beach towel. The chase continued. Finally, Peggy leaped from her perch inside a jade bush to the top of the fence post surrounding the garden. I tried to throw the towel over her while she was focusing on keeping her balance, but she jumped and flew out into the yard and around the corner of Dakota's little house. I ran around the corner of the house, and she was gone.
Gone. Disappeared. There was no sign of her. Literally not a peep.
I stood still, listening for rustling and looking for any sign of movement. Nothing. I got my flashlight and started searching the area. Looking under nearby bushes and structures. By now, it was dark, and I was really starting to get worried. Where could Peggy be? Why wasn't she peeping? Would I ever find her?
Find out tomorrow when the gripping story of The Great Chicken Escape continues...
I always think late afternoon or dusk is the best time for free-ranging, because when it starts getting dark, they should march in and roost on their own.
I think you're right, Kathi, for chickens who are living out in their coops and feel like that's "home." Lisa is certainly that way. The problem with the new girls is that they just spend the day in the tractor, and at night they sleep in their brooder box. So they don't think of the tractor as home base, like most chickens do about their coop.
I may not know much about chickens, but I saw "Chicken Run." I think Peggy has made a dash for freedom!
I'm dying for the second installment of your story.