That's her in the foreground, making a dash for the outdoors. She was one of the older generation of hens but as the only Araucana (blue eggs) and having a lot of character, I attempted to relocate her to my coop last month. She was having none of it! Even after dark, she took off out of the coop and over the fence and never looked back.
That was the last time she was seen and I thought she had probably been eaten. Dogs, foxes, raccoons... it's a dangerous place for a hen without shelter. Then yesterday my son came in from taking his dog out and said one of my hens was out of the pen and in the garden. I went out to find out who was a.w.o.l. but all 14 were right where they belonged. Then I saw her, long lost Esther. Clearly torn between rejoining the flock and living wild, she comes back but dashes for the horizon if anyone gets too close. When I see her I hear a shrill Scottish voice shouting in my mind "You can never take my freedom!" Thus she is now known as Esther Braveheart.