1st February. Egg Hunt.

About this time of year some hen or other which by some miracle isn't itself a cockerel, gets broody and decides to take off.

Somewhere it'll be sitting on a clutch of eggs each one with a 50:50 chance of being male.

I did the rounds of the garden looking under bushes, in amongst chimney liners, and anywhere else that a hen might find cosy. The search turned up a a few eggs three of which I fried up for tea but no hen visible anywhere.

What we need is a Newfoundland Egg Hound to sniff out these hen fruits, or a Wire Haired Embryo Terrier or an Anatolian Omlette Dog.

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