Well, Bridgette’s back in her hospital box. The other girls were just finding her wounds too irresistable, and I was going to be away all afternoon, so I though it better not to risk a full-fledged cannibalistic chicken feast.
She did mingle successfully for a few hours, and I think I’ll try to repeat the process for a bit each day while she recovers, so she doesn’t get blue. I might even go ahead with the hospital pen, since the weather’s supposed to finally cool down to highs in the low 90s.
This evening, I let her out in the courtyard by herself for about 20 minutes so she could scratch around and act like a chicken. She didn’t have too much enthusiasm until I dug her up half a dozen grubs, which she gobbled up with gusto and chased with some scratch.
Jennifer & her husband are coming by tomorrow morning to pick up the wheels I borrowed for the PBS thing and check out the portable electric fencing, and they’re going to look her over for me. He’s in veterinary research at Kansas State and she’s a former vet, too. It’s always nice to have access to pros. If you can ever say a dog attack has good timing, this one did–I’m glad it happened a couple days before they were due for a visit.
Tomorrow is Spinsters Club! My mom’s in town, so I probably won’t be able to really spin, but I do want to take her down there to see Alpacas of Wildcat Hollow. My mom’s an animal lover, and I’m sure she’ll fall all over herself for the adorableness.