I have acquired a Hen Borstal.
This is a temporary state of affairs, these hens have been found guilty of nothing more than minor traffic offences, plus one count of aggravated assault being taken into account. They will be released into the community in due course, with admonishments to behave themselves and certainly not to do that bank job that they have been secretly planning in that hut of theirs, and until that time they are in secure accommodation in the middle of my lawn.
There are five of them. We chose five because there are five of us, and that means that, while neither group has superiority of numbers, we reckon we could probably take them, should there be an avian uprising, particularly since hen-response to surprise attack seems to be less organised and a lot noisier than ours. We haven't named them yet, they are just Prisoner One, Prisoner Two, Prisoner Three, etc, but these designations remain fluid as we can't tell them apart yet either. I tried putting them into little uniforms covered in prison arrows and with numbers on the breast pockets, but chickens don't wear clothes. Apparently. So they are just know as The Chickens, in a rather Godfather like way.
Of course the dogs and cats regard this new establishment as the animal version of the Big Brother house and watch every new development with keen eyes, albeit with a lack of Geordie voice-over. There has been much communal pressing of noses to the house windows and extreme excitement every time one of the hens appears, or lies down, or scratches... it's like living with the paparazzi trying to get a shot of Kate and Wills.
I shall be sure to let you know as release date approaches. You may want to throw a net over your strawberries, and also be prepared to buy back all your valuables from the local car boot sale. I am trying to rehabilitate them, but there is just no helping some chickens...
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