Dogs

This weekend, as well as looking after Scratch, we are looking after Dylan as well.  Dylan stays in his own house and we nip along four times a day to take him out, walk, play and feed him.  He's another gentle soul and the three of them get on very well.

This morning after I'd seen to Dylan I went to feed the hens, only to find one dead and another only just alive.  They had been killed by a dog.  I am beside myself with rage and sadness.  

Our neighbours' terrier has killed several of their own poultry and wild pheasants.  When they moved in the lad said that his dog would kill my hens unless I moved them, so I did, half way down the road to where we have our veg garden.  The dog is not walked, but let out on its own.  BUT I cannot prove it was his dog. . . . .