I was sitting at the kitchen table this afternoon, balancing the budget and books. G sent me a text message, asking me to go up to The Compound. I thought there must have been some sort of crisis - a dead goat, a snake, a broken egg - something along those lines. No. Nothing like that. He was trying to catch his chickens so that he could "ring" them. He couldn't reach and catch them due to the very awkward design of the pen they're in. It's not very high and only has a small square opening in one corner. He tried to get get in but soon realised there was no way that was going to work - hence the text message....and yes, we are heading down the road of individually identifying our poultry. At this stage it's not electronic - but who knows where it might all end?
Following is a (long) series of photos that I got G to take because I wanted the kids to see just how far I'll go for their father! These were taken right at the end of the process - when I was catching them I was actually crouched down, flat on the ground on my shins, my body folded into a kind of Z shape, grabbing bare legs and passing the chicken up through the opening to be "ringed" and returned.
Here is the pen. As you can see, it's not very far off the ground. I am 5' 10". The opening is on the diagonal opposite corner.
1 comment:
I would have paid good money to see Gibbo in there Mare!
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