Chicken impression

This chicken did cross the road and was wandering around our garden all morning.  We knew that it belonged to the farmer who lives way on the other side of our  barn.  So, when he appeared round the corner in his noisy little van, I raised a hand and stopped him.   After the customary, "Ca va, ca va, ca va, ca va" thing, I said "Une poule s'est échappée".  He looked at me askance. "Une poule est sortie," I tried.  He snarled at me somewhat suspiciously, baring variously shaped yellow teeth that pointed  north-west and south-east. I turned away with a shrug "Viens avec moi."  This he seemed to understand.  It was then, to my shame, that I resorted to a chicken impersonation!  He got it. "...est sortie" he grunted. Didn't I just say that?  And so, after quite a few minutes of him lunging  at the thing and grasping repeatedly at thin air, and me clapping and shooing the poor bird towards him as best I could, he finally caught  it by the tail, deftly turned it upside down and marched off carrying it by its ankles, squawking (the hen was squawking, not the farmer). We turned back to our chores and then went inside.  Shortly after came a knock on the door and the same toothy/toothless grin.  This time he bore a gift, a box of freshly laid eggs.  We felt warm at his generosity, but still a bit repelled by his oral hygiene.  Postscript, tonight the damned thing has escaped again!