Fowl Play

*sigh* I should be at the movies watching John Carter right now, but unfortunately the head cold that has been moving from desk to desk at the Arvo Job this week finally cornered me yesterday. Since I don’t appreciate other people sneezing and nose-blowing at the movies, I can hardly do so myself. Fortunately, it’s a quickie bug (I can already feel it winding down), so I should be right for Martian intrigues tomorrow.

It looks like something cornered the chook yesterday as well. She was fine when I fed her in the morning, but today she looks raggedy, and has only a single, pathetic plume for a tail. Under her hangout, I found enough feathers to build another chicken (better than she was before? Better, stronger, faster?) I have a possible culprit, or rather two culprits, but no direct evidence – the two young magpies that have been dropping by for chook breakfast leftovers for many months. They’ve grown into rather cocky adolescents. After I fed the chook this morning, there was an almighty ruckus, and I discovered the twin black-and-white terrors chasing the chook from her food. But could two magpies so thoroughly defeather a grown chicken? Anyway, I opened the kitchen door and let slip the cats of war, and my mighty moggies promptly chased off the magpies so the poor, put-upon chook could have some much needed peace and quiet.

Now I’m off for a bit of peace and quiet myself, with a box of tissues, a pot of tea, smoochy cats and a book. I’ve got just the thing for a blah-sickie day – The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. I’ve been saving this for just such an occasion, a day when I have the perfect excuse to read for hours and hours and utterly lose myself in the book rather than read it bit by bit.

I hope it’s as good as they say.