Yes, Feather is one of our two remaining beloved Original Chickens. And somehow she knows it, b/c she has decided that, while she might be a simple member of the flock by day, in truth she deserves to lounge on the wool rugs and sup from the dog dish.
Lately, this has become something of an obsession. Previously, she might wander on occasion - quite by accident of course - into the cool quiet confines of the house. But now? Watch out. This girl is On Alert. No more leaving the front door open. No more leaving the side door ajar while you run in to grab a knife or some water. And those lovely dutch doors, with the tops wide open to let in the summer air?
Every time I turn around, there's a confident and shiny black hen strolling about my living/dining/kitchen area, awaiting the next tidbit that might befall the floor. Once discovered, this girl performs no scramble for the nearest door, no. She is no more chagrined at finding her way in than would Violet be upon stumbling into Mr. Wonka's chocolate fondue room. In fact, she is very, very annoyed at even the suggestion she depart the premises. Which way to the dog food, Madam? And I don't CARE if it's Chicken Nuggets!
Anyone care to invent the Hen Diaper?