Mrs. Hughes has picked up half of Edith's bad habit of escaping from the coop
if I do not appear the moment she wakes up for breakfast.
She flies to the top of the fence but hasn't figured out how to fly down to the ground.
Me: Let me help you, darlin'.
Me: Don't look down your nose at me. You got yourself into this mess.
I'm just trying to help you out of it.
Me: Don't you dare poop on my arm.
Mrs. Hughes is not the prettiest of chickens. Please don't tell her I said that.
I think she'll grow into her looks once her comb develops.
Lucy: She needs bigger ears.
Lucy's comment begs the question, do chickens even have ears? How do they hear? I honestly don't know.
Lucy continued her study of Mrs. Hughes' anatomy...
until Mrs. Hughes got tired of being goosed and found the courage to fly to the ground.