Locked up

Still no pictures of the Chicken Mansion...I'm not sure where the camera is. I'll have to ask Miss Kat. She knows all...

But, I'll have to take some shots before Kev changes the latch on the door. Why is he changing the latch? Well...that's a long story.

You see, he put a padlock type latch on the chicken house. He thought it might be something we could latch tight that would be varmint proof. It is. it works well, very well. It works so well, that when you go inside, there are times that it will automatically latch behind you and then, you, the unsuspecting person will be stuck in the chicken house. Kev noticed that it would catch and told me to be careful, and to be sure and tell the kids to be careful. It's worked well until last night.

Do you see where this is going???

Last night, I ran out while supper was in the oven. Miss Kat ran out to take care of her rabbits and the kittens while I went out to care for the chickens. I fed them, checked their water, talked to them about their day, shut the window, etc. Then, I went to the door, pulled on the handle, and nothing. I couldn't open the door. To make matters worse, I really had to make a trip to the powder room. So, I walked to the window, opened it again and hollered outside for anyone, hoping that Miss Kat was in the shop playing with the kittens.

She wasn't.

So I hollered and yelled, hoping that they'd hear me in the house. But they didn't. Meanwhile, I really had to make my trip. I glanced around the chicken house, thinking that a section of the floor might serve...but, 1/2 is made of tight tongue and groove wood from Grandad's barn or something (it's like grainry wood, but much thicker.) Water just sits on this wood. I glanced at the other 1/2 of the floor, but it's chipboard, cheaper particle board that is ruined when it gets wet. Kevin would KILL me if I ruined his floor. So, back to the window i went, yelling and hollering for someone to rescue me.

About this time, Emily, our 110 lb. Chocolate lab came around the corner and looked up at me. her expression said, "what the heck are you yelling about, Woman?"

Seeing her, I said, "Emily, be Lassie, go to the house and get Dad. Tell him that Timmy fell down the well and needs help." She just looked at me and barked.

Brainstorm time...maybe, just maybe Emily would bark and Kevin and the kids would hear her and come rescue me.

So, I'd tell Emily to bark,and she would, then I'd bark again, and she'd bark. We went back and forth like this for a few minutes. Poor dog, she had no idea why I was playing this silly barking game with her, but it worked.

Kevin heard her bark. He asked Kat, "I wonder what Emily's barking at. Hey, do you think your mother locked herself in the chicken house?" He sent her out, I yelled, and the little turkey, she giggled.

She thought it was hilarious that her mother was locked in the Chicken house. She let me out, and I came in the house and ran to the "powder" room.

Did I get any sympathy for my traumatic experience? Not one bit. Everybody thought it was funny. Yeah, I felt the love.

So, Kev decided to change the latch to just a hook and eye latch. He figures it will be much safer.