It started raining yesterday evening, so I told Lightning McQueen (whose hens they are) to go out and shut the door of the henhouse so the feedbox wouldn't get waterlogged. I didn't tell him to put the girls in, as it was still daylight and they protest mightily if they have to go in their coop before they decide it's bedtime.
He left the gate to the backyard open.
Crockpot and Drumstick got over the little piece of plastic lattice we have across the bottom of the gate opening (the gate is far enough off the ground that they can scooch under) and when I stepped outside after it had quit raining, I saw Drumstick in the side yard.........but no Crockpot.
A search party was organized, and circumstantial evidence of several feathers in the driveway of the house across the street indicated that if we found her, it wasn't likely she'd be fit for anything but a decent burial. The search was called off once the street lights came on, it becoming too dark to see well. Drumstick was put in the henhouse and we went off to bed, with me thinking that "well, we now only have one chicken" and several other thoughts all related to children and their proclivities for leaving lights on and doors and gates hanging wide open, but which are sadly unprintable because I told Blogger that this is not an adult-content blog.
fast forward to this morning........
Velvet found Crockpot about a block from home, missing those feathers I mentioned before, but otherwise none the worse for wear. I am thankful. Lightning McQueen is thankful too, although he's not back on my good side yet.