At first I thought Helen and Mrs Hall were always gazing through the glass on the back door because they were waiting for me to appear. I knew better than to assume it was me they were looking for and not the food they hoped I would be carrying, but it is still nice to think they missed me. Now I know that they are there solely for the sake of vanity. The backdoor glass is their mirror and the best place for them to do their primping!
Helen doesn't even mind if I'm sitting right there watching, she still takes time to look herself over, then begins her toilet.
She starts on the feathers right under her chin.
She nibbles all the feathers from her chin to her belly. Tickle, tickle.
She spends many minutes preening the feathers under her wings. Hey, are you asleep in there?
Frequent glances in the mirror assure her that she is getting each feather just so. Truthfully, I think she's making sure that her chicken friend that lives in the glass is still there and not getting any extra food that she might have missed. Or maybe she's admiring her coif. It's hard to know a chickens mind; they are complicated beings.
She turns to the side to make sure she can see every angle. Maybe I should do the girls a favor and get one of those three sided dressing room mirrors. Nah. No one like to see themselves from those angles, and Helen tends to get a bit fluffy in the rear so it's better that she's not self conscious.
Once every feather is in it's proper place, she gives a massive stretch as she strolls away to investigate the compost. Look'n good, girl!