Here’s my new helper! It’s Lucky. In recent weeks she’s got into the habit of flying up on to my back, when I’m bending over in the croft hen house, scraping the floor, or whatever.
When I stand up, Lucky scrambles up to look over my shoulder, adjusting her stance and grip on my boiler suit as I go about my morning routine.
When ‘breakfast’ is served up, she’s off: her little wings flap against my ear as she launches herself over my shoulder, into flight, landing clumsily in the midst of the feeding frenzy.
In fairness we don’t know for certain that she’s Lucky. But it’s likely, because this pullet doesn’t seem to be close-knit into any social group.