I forgot to shut in the chickens last night, and this morning I woke up to the crowing of cock. Are the two related? I can’t remember whether yesterday, cooped up, he did. I jumped up and went out, all worried about being caught in negligence so early in this exchange of work for keep — whoops — and cajoled them, all enthusiasm and wet feathers about being out all night in the rain, back into their enclosure using unscheduled bonanza feed. Then I chopsticked egregious chicken shit from the patio stones, thinking about any other tells I could try to erase and get away with it, just this once, I promise. I hope it’s okay, that no chickens are found lost today to coyotes or whatever apex fowl predator prowls these chilly Spanish hills.