Tuesday, 30 June 2009

I've been demoted

Last evening, I went to the bottom of the garden to enjoy the evening sunshine. I may have fallen asleep. How do you know if you've fallen asleep when you don't have a watch, you didn't plot the sun when you sat down and it's still shining on you when you next notice it?

Anyway, having wakened (if I was asleep), I noticed that the chickens were at the top of the garden on the path, so I went up to make sure they didn't go into the lettuce.

As I got onto the path the chickens started running towards me. At first, I thought they'd just missed me - the Big Chicken who Knows Where the Food Is. However, having reached about Mach 2, the lead chicken launched herself at me about chest height - my chest, not hers. She was clearly not coming for a cuddle. A nifty sidestep on my part avoided a collision. I was slightly taken aback, and only recovered my senses in time to see incoming Exochick number two heading my way at a slightly lower altitude. I was now stunned. Charlemagne, the cockerel, whose status in the flock is now obviously only slightly higher than mine, had clearly not been consulted about this attempted coup, as he was running around squawking - although maybe he was the planned diversion while they prepared for the second assault, but it never came. They obviously chickened out.

What was it about? What had I done?

Maybe I'll starve them for two days. That'll show them. In the meantime, I've called for an inquiry as to who hatched this plot.


  1. Now that was funny. This blog is improving. Why don't you threaten them with the stockpot?

  2. I don't believe that I've just read all that correctly.

    I shall read it again in the morning. Obviously reading blogs at half past midnight is not wise!

  3. C'est aussi bizarre ce matin que c'était la nuit dernière.

    Ah well.