the sad tale of chicken sitting when there is attrition

There are no more chickens at our house.  When I agreed to chicken sit 18 months ago I was excited. Naive.  A chicken newbie.  We started with three black hens.

We built them an enclosure and a little house.  I fed them scraps, collected the egg (NB singular) and let them eat the grubs in the garden.

Then we came home one day to find one of them lying on it's side with its legs stuck out.  Dead as a dead chicken.  It was ceremoniously buried under the mango tree.

Two chickens.

A couple of months later I found a hole in the back fence, a lot of feathers, some blood, and no chicken.

One chicken.

I gave the chicken back to its owner, apologising very much for chicken attrition.  Al and Chris built her a lovely new house, and I am told she is very content to sit out her days there.  Not laying.  Just sitting.  They made the house from bits lying around in the shed - a couple of window frames, some wood, some leftover tin from the shed construction and some ply.

While our chicken house sits forlornly in the corner of the yard.  I am going to start afresh when we get back from China.  Maybe I will get brown ones this time.  And hopefully there will be less attrition.