As you know, the wing-clipping didn’t work; Trish leaves her yard every day and roams the neighborhood. We’ve become “those people.” But I wonder which is worse: a huge, burning pile of refuse (thanks, Wayne) or a chicken with a sense of adventure.
Dominic is as interested in her poop as I am, it appears. He informed me this morning that he noticed some on the driveway where she has been moseying around. He asked me when I was going to clean it up.
Here is an image of Trish roosting in the crape myrtle at sunset. I’d like to see Thomas Kinkade tackle this.
Trish in her tree
Observe and report 
Leave a Reply