Listening to: Constellations (Jack Johnson)
Reading: Shadow of the Wind (Carlos Ruiz Zafon)
Weather: Rain, wind turning to the north
Watching: Spain v Northern Ireland
Bad news from the hen house; Godber is dead. I'm baffled by this one, there seems to be no reason.
Regular readers may remember that Godber was the regular escaper from the fenced-off run and she escaped once too often, being mugged by Spike and being lucky to get away alive.
Her wing was damaged and she was pretty sorry for herself for a time, but that was a few weeks ago and she seemed to have recovered. Sure, she needed a little encouragement and sometimes help to get outside, but she was eating and drinking normally and there was no obvious reason why she shouldn't carry on for a while.
She was fine this morning when I put the layer pellets and a few cabbage leaves in the shed, but when I went to check them half-an-hour ago, she was deader than the Kennedys.
I'm disappointed because I feel that, once again, I've let down an animal in my care. I can't stand hens, they give me the creeps, but that doesn't mean I don't take their welfare very seriously. (said he, sounding desperately pious).
I take some comfort from the words of a friend who runs a six-acre smallholding in Devon. She has sheep and hens and says of both: "They die, it's what they're good at."