The One-Way Cockrel

It must be put on record that Old Red, the bewildered cock-chook resident at The Chookery, is one wheel short of a wheelbarrow. I have discussed some of his eccentricities before now, but his latest is that he insists on PTC personally putting him to bed. Come, come, I hear you say, how on earth can a manky old cockrel exert such a manipulative force over the fortress of resolution that is Pat the Chooks? Well, he has become a one-way cockrel and requires artificial intervention. This is not to say that he is failing in his duty as a cock-chook; how could he when he never makes the attempt? Young Chalky sees to the more familiar duties that befall the male of the species and the hen-chooks are quite capable of crowing if they feel the whim. What has become a more recent vice is his complete inability, once he has gone down into the paddock from the garden, to find his way back at dusk. For three evenings now he has gone to perch on a fence inside the goose-pen and I have had to pick him up and pass him bodily into the proper chook-pen. He is even allowing himself to become easier to catch and will be handled with fewer complaints (mind you, have you ever heard of a cock complainaing about too much handling?).
On the domestic front, I started yesterday to trim the hedge which fronts the roadside of The Chookery. The frontage is about 40 metres long and the hedge needs to be reduced in height by about two metres; yesterday I managed about one tenth of that, so it could be the end of the season before I manage to complete the task.
A good walk around the Forestry Commission recreational area at Ardcastle near Lochgair this morning. A beautiful winter’s day with superb views across, up and down Loch Fyne and the fishfarms. There are also excellent interesting stony beaches onto the lochside which will definitely reward more detailed exploration.
Off to Islay tomorrow for work. The only snag is that I have a reservation to take the car over, but am on the waiting list for the ferry back in the afternoon. This means that I might get back tomorrow, or I might be stuck overnight until I can get a crossing back to the mainland. Only time will tell, and time will try to record the outcome tomorrow evening.


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