Today we had a bit of rain so, unlike the past couple of days, it wasn't bitterly cold outside.Tilda had been out a couple of times yesterday, with encouragement from me. She seemed OK, but not particularly happy outside, so I didn't force it.
When I got down to the kitchen this morning, Tilda burbled a greeting from the comfort of her nest. I opened the back door and the garden girls came running over. Tilda sat with her back to the door, ignoring the excited bokking from the grass. I decided she really should go out.
I lifted her out o fher pen and stood her by the door, beak outside. She stood there. I noticed that she had rather pooey feet, so I tried to clean them off. It wasn't easy (retch, retch), and in desperation I stood her outside. My thinking was that if she just walked up and down on the wet patio, her feet would be cleaned.
I flushed away the tissue I'd used, and washed &dried my hands; by the time I got back in the kitchen, Tilda was back in the kitchen as well.
At least she has clean feet.
