Herding chickens is a little like herding cats.... Cats that can f*$#ing fly.
Yep. That's Portia. Again.
Portia surveys the view from the garage roof.
"Where is everyone else?" Portia asks. It sounds distinctly like,
"Should I fly to the safety of the ground where my adoring human will save me from the dangers of the wild world and deposit me lovingly into my coop (where I belong with the rest of my comrades)?"
"Nah. Let's explore the roof of the house! My human will never reach me with her garden hoe now!"
A bit of perspective. The neighbors thought this was hilarious. They didn't have to figure out how to get a #$%^&ing chicken off the roof of a two story house. And, for the sake of realism, don't forget to throw in a "buck-buck-buck-buckck-CAW!!!" every thirty seconds for good measure.
"Perhaps I'll see what Mount Baker looks like at sunset..."
Believe it or not, she really did climb to the apex of the roof, approximately forty feet off the ground. I yelled. I coaxed. I rattled a container of scratch. I begged. I pleaded. I shook my hoe. I tossed two buckets of water (nearly on myself). Finally, I realized that Portia was avoiding me. When I walked away, she flew down, then promptly got cornered inside the garden shed. My master plan worked.
The moral of this story is that a good chicken is a chicken with clipped wings. We will be investigating the act of wing clipping over the course of the next week. Enough is enough.
The title of this post was, however, about payoff. I present exhibit 26F:
Yes, that's right. Ingrid finally laid that egg. Three in one day! This is a record. Our flock is now in 60% compliance. Perhaps a little wing snip will persuade Ellen and Portia to step up.