31 May

Maude and I had such a nice morning together it almost felt like we could live like this forever.  We went for one last spider hunt in the bush, and weeded all around the coop, pulling out great clumps of onion weed bulbs from which usually one or two worms could be teased out.  Maude pottered around on the bank while I gathered up all her worldly possessions, quite a lot in fact, and then last of all I brought out the box I planned to put her in when I took her away.  How long could I put off the hour?  Quite long.  Phoebe rang and we had the longest, most satisfying and most necessary talk, and everywhere I went, Maude went, and everywhere Maude went, I went.   I talked to Phoebe, and Maude listened, and preened her feathers, and when we moved up to the deck Storm came over from next door to join us, which alarmed Maude just enough for her to jump off the deck for about five minutes, before she came back up and settled down to sunbathe with Storm.  Eventually the phone call did come to an end, and Maude wasn’t particularly willing to be put in a box, so I led her down to the coop, carrying the box with me, thinking it might be easier to catch her in the coop where she couldn’t run away.  It was so easy I didn’t then have the heart to try and shut her in the box and decided I could carry her across the road in my arms.  I even took a selfie with her half way, holding her with one arm.  If I had taken a few more I might have been able to get one with her nestling her head into my shoulder, but she was more relaxed when I had both arms around her, and so was I.  Really, it was a very nice walk, and even Maude didn’t seem to mind at all, just making the occasional comment on the oddness of it all, and politely greeting the neighbours whose coop she would be living in.  I had felt sorry to wrench her away from her familiar grounds, with so many favourite places, and only thought I had to so she could have the companionship of other birds, but she seemed to take to her new grounds at once.  She chased away the first, small hen she met, but the next hen was prepared to challenge her.  They both flew up into the air, feathers out, chests puffed, making loud cries of indignation, totally justified on the part of the hen whose coop Maude had invaded, but entered into with just as much enthusiasm by Maude.  Twice they flew up, feathers out, twice they landed and circled each other warily, and then they went off in different directions.  Maude called out to the other hen once or twice but she kept her distance while Maude tried out the water, and the wheat, and the scraps, and generally took in all the pleasures of her new situation.  I was back and forth a few times bringing all her things across, and every time I arrived with another pail of wheat, or bag of straw, she was busy in another area of the coop, no other hens in sight.  At last all her things had been conveyed across the road.  She strolled over to the wire to say good bye, or probably just hello, then she turned away and I filmed her one last time as she wandered off, disappearing into the bushy depths of what really is a wonderful coop, hopefully to find the other hens and fight their way to friendship. ​