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My day (A tale with chickens, foxes and a happy ending)

The day started well enough. When Granny arrived, everyone was fed, watered and dressed, my middle child, Hamish, clutching his inseparable companion, Foxy. There was a brief moment when I couldn't find the two older children but they were soon located outside, blocking the drain with pebbles, a favourite pursuit, and Foxy was helping.  We loaded everyone into the car and set off to a smallholding where we were buying some new friends for my mum's lonely bantam "Pearlsie Mittens". As I parked at the gate Rebecca shouted "I can see the farmer" and Hamish burst into an enthusiastic rendition of "Eee iii eee iii oh" and continued singing parts of Old Macdonald for the next twenty minutes. While Granny...

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