10th August. They Draw The Line At Necrophilia.

When I arrived back home there was a dead chicken on the garden seat, stiff as a board.

"So poor old Hettie finally popped her clogs then?"

"Yes I found her slumped over inside the hen house, I think she just died of old age."

Old age and infirmity had done little to dampen the ardour of any of the three cockerels still at liberty. If anything her state of health (or lack of it) had made her a more attractive target.

The proclivities of the male domestic fowl have few endearing qualities, in general it's conduct towards the female and specifically a complete disregard of the incest taboo.

At best it's sexual mores could be described as refreshingly un-P.C.

However I notice that despite, or rather because of Hettie's immobility, molestation has now ceased permanently.

Even 'Puffson' the self-abusing chicken is giving her a wide berth.