Hello again, it’s the last Tialys chicken here with news for you about my search for a new family after my last companion died of old age and left me feeling lonely.
On Monday, Mme Tialys let me out of my hen house and, before I could even have a sip of water or a peck at some food, she tried to pick me up. Well, I wasn’t having any of that sort of nonsense, so I led her a merry dance round and round my run, hiding in the bamboo and behind some nettles until she gave up and went off to put cream on her nettle stings, change her nice dress she’d put on that morning and leave for a meeting – she was late apparently, serves her right.
The next morning, the same thing happened, only this time she was ready for me. All exits blocked, cage ready, I was nabbed.
This is me in the back of the car with all my leftover food – it was torture as I hadn’t had breakfast. I’m sitting on a newspaper with a photo of a half naked man on the front – apparently it’s Aidan Turner aka Poldark. He’s alright I suppose but he’s got no feathers worth a mention so I peed on him.
Half an hour later I was in a new place.
Mme Tialys has some good friends who she says, if ever she comes back as an animal and needs a home with humans, they would be the ones she would want to adopt her. When they saw my ad on Tinder, they said I could go and live with them and their chickens (and horses, donkeys, dogs, cats, etc.) so Mme. Tialys took me there to see if I approved.
Mme. Karen is holding me in the cage while Monsieur John distracts the others with some noodles.
Let me at those noodles, I’m starving.
I was gratified to see that I am the
fattest biggest chicken there so I did start duffing a few of them up just to show I wasn’t going to take kindly to them ganging up on me or anything. Monsieur John asked Mme Tialys if she had a muzzle for me. Cheek!
O.K., you’ve showed me where the noodles are kept, you can clear off now Lightweight.
So, I won’t be lonely any more – there are 14 other chickens here including some funny looking Leghorns and it’s obvious that Monsieur John is a complete softie where his chickens are concerned so I’ll soon have him wrapped round my little chicken foot and doing my bidding. I might even try to squeeze an egg out for him every now and again.
What do you think of my new place?