Fresh chicken for breakfast
The visitors have all left and life resumes its normal peaceful pace for Susie-Belle. Although as I write this, she’s being pestered into joining in a beard pulling, face chewing frantic five minutes by Renae for whom life is one continual search for activity; and all Susie-Belle fancies by the looks of it is a quiet afternoon by the fire.
We got drenched on this mornings walk: we were about an hour away from the house when the clouds emptied and no cover under which we could shelter; attempts to get under the trees only resulted in large fat drips running off the bare branches and a shivering Susie-Belle so we decided to keep moving and headed back. By the time we turned into our lane, the sky had cleared & although not warm, the sun was weakly attempting an appearance.
Just as we’d almost reached the house and thoughts of hot showers all round and breakfast were being pondered, an unexpected attempt to source a super-fresh breakfast was made when one of the neighbours hens wandered from behind the hedge into the path of our cold, wet, bedraggled but deceptively sharp schnauzers. After lots of panicky flapping and sqwawking – and that was just me – Michel managed to rescue the daft bird from where it was trapped in the hedge and send it back to safety on the other side of the fence. No harm done, no damage to the entente cordiale, and the girls made do with a chicken wing from the freezer…..after their hot shower.
