As a new little chick she was called Milly but I am pretty sure s/he was developing into a cockerel.
He developed a cheeky character quite early on and was not as afraid as his siblings. When they eventually moved from the conservatory into the outside run he was always among the first to come for food and, in fact he would jump on my back and sit on my shoulder like a parrot.
He was the one who poohed down my T-shirt when he was ‘helping’ me pick plums and very soon, not content woth climbing up the gate, he would fly over the fence and come up to the door at feeding time.
Then, a few days ago he wasn’t there. He didn’t turn up for food in the run either.
I thought he may have gone to visit my neighbour but couldn’t see him in her garden. Then yesterday I caught a glimpse of a chicken through the hedge and breathed a sigh of relief.
However, when I went round to collect him I found that it was in fact Freya and Fricka who had absconded. Michelle helped me to round them up and return them to our garden; so still no Milly.
This evening I suddenly thought of looking among the nettles near the fences between our gardens. Perhaps he was stuck between two fences. But I would have heard him wouldn’t I?
No, because all I found was his little body. I’ve no idea what killed him but only his neck was eaten.
He will be sadly missed and I’ll make sure everyone else is firmly shut in each evening.