A hen by another name

I don't really know anything about birds. I spent some time with chicken duties on my grandpa's farm (in Alberta, Canada...he was a MacDonald in the diaspora) but was just a boy and, though curious, never figured them out. So I wasn't afraid of them when we inherited 5 with the house last Fall when we moved in. They weren't very trusting of me. The new guy. Who knows what he's like? But over the months this one has come to think I'm not only the food guy but maybe worth following around. She's an escape artist, so is always put of the run and roaming around the garden. And last Saturday was quite happy to stay right beside me as I was weeding in the garden, taking over the areas I had just weeded as perfect places to look for something to eat. Isn't that why I was pulling out those indelible green things?

She doesn't have a name yet. Or, at least not one I know.