It’s surprising how quickly routines set in. Every morning, rain or shine, animals need to be fed. And that means a trip to the stables to fill the cats’ bowl and to let the chickens out and give them their layers pellets.
A quick head count. Ducks: two Indian runners, three Aylesbury whites, Bev (not an Aylesbury, but named anyway after a close friend who lives near Aylesbury), and two wild mallards who decided to quit the rat race of foraging for themselves to stay on the pond. Chickens: one bantam cockerel, two white stars and an assortment of three others that we inherited, plus our six rescued ex-bats.
Until now. With no discernible evidence of intervention by a fox, one of the ex-bats has gone AWOL. And lately only a subset of the ducks are on display on the pond. Occasionally we’ve had to round up a couple of the ex-bats who’ve taken their new-found freedom too far and strayed into the yard. But so far we’ve always been able to find them.
But not any more. Searches of the stables, hen house and surrounding foliage reveal nothing when looking for the missing. Yet return later in the day and the whole menagerie is back. How do they don their cloak of invisibility in the mornings?