We have been adopted by a wandering little hen chicken, who showed up on our front porch the evening of the, umm, chicken pot pie dinner.
Is this A Sign?
This morning as I was baking, the hen slipped quietly into the house and found a sleeping nook in the end of the hallway, under a shelf unit. I lured it out with some 10 grain cereal, but I couldn't come to grips with capturing it under a plastic washtub and tossing it outside. When Sra. Cuevas got up, she walked behind the hen and it went outside. The hen only left a few poops here and there in the living room.
Right now, as I sit outside, it's pecking at some food. It's kind of gentle, and it eats insects, but in the end, let's face it: it's not wanted here.
Send in the cats.