During the course of the day, assuming she's rejected my attempt to get her to go outside and play, she gradually moves into the main part of the kitchen. She then sits in front of the dishwasher, the sink, the pan drawer. Sometimes she sits right in the middle of the floor, like a booby trap. She's a gingery coloured chicken, and our floor is brown and ginger, so she camouflages well.
She sits, watching us. Her tail is up, she burbles away. Sometimes she reminds me of Doctor Who's Weeping Angels. If you take your eye off her she moves. Just a bit. At least you're sure she must have moved, because 5 minutes ago she'd been sitting in front of the part of the kitchen where the coffee machine is sited, and now she's in front of the cooker.
Over the last few days, her travels have taken her in a very large L shape, and she has reached the cat food bowls. She hasn't attempted to eat the cat food, but she has had some fun sitting in front of the bowls. The cats, not surprisingly, aren't too happy about this.
This morning she reached the cat food bowls by about noon, something of a record. I was sitting using my laptop in the living room. The kitchen door, with the cat food bowls, is right behind me. Tilda sat there, watching me. I wondered whether she might try and come into the living room. I;m not too keen on that really, but we have a solid floor in here as well, and I guess it won't be much of a hardship adding that to my daily disinfect.
She didn't come into the living room. One minute she was settled, watching me. The next minute I head DH in the hallway saying "Hello Chicken, you've decided to come in here have you?".
The hallway, too, has a solid floor. And she won't be able to get up the stairs. She might manage to hide herself amongst the bikes underneath the stairs I suppose.
At the moment she is staring at the door stop.