Of all the hens in the flock, only she seeks him out, asking for attention. He feels a special bond with her because of this, though he knows she shares her affections with anyone who enters the run.
Does she want to be stroked, or is she hoping he will let her peck at the cans of feed before he scatters their contents under the cedar? He would prefer not to know.
Her loyalty is fleeting. He knows that as soon as he turns his back, she’ll try to slip around him to get to the open gate.
She is a pragmatist. She never dreams of storms or flight.
He is sentimental. He wants to protect her. He watches for cats in the dusk.
Coo, coo, ca choo.
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