Those chickens are up to summat, Mrs. Tweedy

I used to watch our neighbor's chickens when I was a kid, so I don't come to chicken-sitting this winter as a complete novice. The old biddies my folks keep are past their prime, outside their laying years, and pretty low maintenance as birds go. But lately, strange things have been afoot in the chicken coop.

It started a month ago, when I noticed that a trench of sorts had been dug in along the fence perimeter near the door. I thought that perhaps Mandy had been up there doing some gardening, but she denied all responsibility, and on reflection, it was a bit closer to the fence than she would have chosen to plant anything, anyway; the chicken-wire is buried down several inches on all sides to prevent predators from digging in under it and getting a free chicken dinner.

So I assumed that was what it had been, some hungry coyote (they've been coming down close to the houses this year) or raccoon which had smelled chicken, decided to try their luck, and been frustrated by the wire. It puzzled me that it wasn't so much a hole as a trench, and a pretty neatly dug trench at that, but I filled it back in again and gave it no more thought.

Until last week. After we got back from the Olympics, I went up to check in on the birds and tell them about the trip while dishing out their feed. Once there, though, I noticed a new trench... this one dug inside the coop. Something trying to get out after a chicken feast? Could it still be in there? The hole didn't go all the way out, or even close... what would get in, forget how to get back out, then try to dig out and give up before escaping?

I did a quick head count and all chickens were present and accounted for. I checked the rest of the perimeter and found no holes, nothing that could have admitted any predator to the coop, and no signs of attack. The chickens are pretty elderly, anyway, and it strained credulity to imagine that some hungry animal might have worked hard enough to enter the henhouse and been repelled by the girls before having its lunch. So, I reasoned, it must have been an inside job. It's become apparent that "Chicken Run" was actually a documentary.

Like Mr. Tweedy in that worthy tale, though, I felt certain that no one would believe me if I made outlandish claims about chickens trying for a jail break, so I kept the whole thing under my hat. Today, though, I am proud to say that I have obtained photographic evidence catching the culprit red-handed:

That's right... the chicken ringleader is trying to dig her way out under the wire. Looks like it's time to throw her in the cooler for a spell of solitary confinement. I'll sweat her for a while to get the co-conspirators. Someone on the outside was clearly in on it, and I doubt it was the cat.

I haven't decided what to do yet with the rest of the culprits, but I will say that it's been a long time since I have had a nice, steaming chicken pot pie.