Chicken Wrangling

I introduced my apartment-sharer, Beatrice, to the joys of chicken wrangling on Sunday evening.  I had spent more than 45 minutes getting the last hen inside the coop on Saturday.  I figured that with two humans, on Sunday, we would shorten the time. Nope.  Beatrice has petted and fed a few of the hens I care for over the years. Of the hens I care for, most of are in a small yard and are easy to lure into the coop for the night, or are easy to catch and carry inside the coop confines.  The hens I was caring for over the weekend have almost half an acre to roam, and there are multiple trees and bushes scattered across the area.  We spent over an hour chasing the chickens on Sunday evening.  Last night, I took a treat and got all but one inside the coop immediately.  The one hen that avoided capture for so long each night is a white Rock Island, and I call her Blanca.  Last night, at least, it only took 20 minutes to get Blanca cooped, as she could see and hear the other hens enjoying the salad I had given them.  I think I'll write a book titled:  In Pursuit of the White Hen .....