When I got home this afternoon one of the chooks had gotten out of their run. The signs were instantly readable: the chook left on her own was anxiously trotting back and forth behind the wire, and the new bok choi & broccoli plants had been pulled up and chucked on the ground. And then the escapee herself appeared around the corner of the house, closely shadowed by Pudd who never misses an opportunity to socialise with chickens.
I looked down at Pudd and noticed he had a post-it note tucked into his collar. My first thought was that the note was from him - 'pls can haz old catfud? New catfud horbl' etc, that sort of thing.
Then I realised some unknown person had put it there to communicate with Pudd's responsible adult. I was relieved to find it wasn't a death threat or a ransom note or report of bad behaviour.
Because I have iss-ews with the telephone it was Dorian that rang Terrie, who lives two doors down. I heard him saying she can keep calling Pudd Snow if she likes. It's unlikely to bother him being addressed as a girl either.