I used to run a stall at a farmer's market. I sold free range eggs as well as a whole lot of other things...and I decided to take the girls along for the ride. We had done this previously, when they were six tiny puff balls of yellow feathers; I'd put them in a box that would seem GINORMOUS compared to the little dots...many people wondered why there was a box for "Super Green" vegetables on my normally tidy table. Their little chirps and fuzzy behinds melted the hearts of even the staunchest of visitors. So I thought that all six 10 week old girls would have no trouble in the limelight of the market place. I had no idea what I was in for... Firstly, transport. Spare carboard boxes were out, so I went for a cat cage. Fairly shortly after lining it with newspaper I head out to the coop. Daisy meets my gaze curiously, cocking her feathered head, golden eyes sparkeling. "Whatcha doin, Jay?" she seems to say. Quietly I beckon to her, spinach in hand. She waddles over, always keen to eat. I gently pick her up, flip open the door, push her in and close it. A slightly confused head pokes back through the bars. As requested, she gets her spinach leaf for being a good girl. Twenty minutes and many squawks later I have my two hens. Did you know that you cannot put more than two chickens in a cat cage without them getting a LITTLE agitated? I didn't. The girls are strapped in the back, cooing gently to each other as they fall into a light slumber. The car lurches forwards, and off we go! After an hour of sharp turns, squawks and shuffling we are at the market. I unload, and place the girls in the dog cage I had used as a brooder when they were little. Content, they perch together on the cat cage door, observing the busy world around them. Children point, people start and other stall holders stare as the new celebrities make themselves at home. "We used to have chickens when I was young..." "Are they for sale?" "Is that a duck? "Can I touch it?" Finally the inevitable question comes from the girls themselves - "Can we go for a walk?" Because there were no dogs, the stallholders are rather taken with the girls and they had been in relatively small spaces for two hours, I figured that it was a reasonably safe move. What I didn't factor into this was which stall was beside mine... "Naughty girl! Stop eating those strawberries!" Me and my neighbouring stallholder cry to the rampaging girls. "Broooook, bok bok bok booooooook!" Daisy says. Well, if you say it's my fault... Another thing about letting hens loose in a marketplace. They see that it is now THEIR territory and all pidgeons, seagulls and sparrows are intruders and MUST be chased until they give up and take flight. Shirley, Daisy's twin, is particularly good at this. She starts by giving them a good hard stare and then, if they wern't scared off by that, takes chase, wings flapping, legs blurring and letting out an almighty squawk. After an eventful day, with crops bulging the two girls walk willingly back into their cage. The last people from the throng that was there beforehand trickles out the gate. Daisy gives the children gathered around her cage a friendly cock of her head. "See you next Sunday!"