Five Hours

For the past five hours, I have tried to get help for the chickens.  Or the squirrels.  Well, both. 

The squirrels, all two of them, got into the chicken run.  Somehow the bungy cord holding the chicken coop door open shut the door. That is where their water is.  It is also the area in which they lay their eggs.  As an aside, you need to know when the owner was here, the eggs were laid beside the door.  My first morning here, one egg was at one end, the other close to the door.  Fool me once.

The last couple of days, the eggs have been close to the door.  Within my reach.  It is nasty, more than nasty to reach your arms across the coop.  Yuck.  But the owner of the house is exceptional.  I like helping her out.  She left me with three plus pages of things to do and know.  Resolving this issue was not in the list.

Enter 96 degree heat.  Chickens don't handle stress well.  Am I profound or what.  In lots of venues. They have been squawking every time I come near.

"Mom, please help.  It's hot in here.

I get it.  I really do.  I don't want any casualties on my watch.The couple that stopped by also have chickens.  They resolved this problem.  The woman in the pair suggested I get a pan or something and put it in the chicken run.  Me?  Hardly.  No way am I going into the run.  First, I'd have to undo the chicken wire.  Not in my job description.  My effort is going toward finding a rental for myself and my two canines.

Jessy is having a rough adjustment.  She doesn't like the E-collar.  Molly washed her face tonight.  It was so dear.  She wanted to comfort her.  Molly is the best big sister. 

I wish I could let my girls run free.  Maybe tomorrow.  Outside.