A DYNAMIC lifter - or was it a permaculture prowler? - has crept into my chook yard in the dead of night.
What a very strange theft this was from my Lismore backyard.
A sizeable pile of chook poo, that had been building up on the upturned milk crate under the old iron ladder where my chooks roost at night - was there one day, and gone the next.
Another smaller pile, on the floor of the chook shed, also disappeared. Nobody has authorised access to my chookhouse but me, my family and my chooks. It wasn't us, and it wasn't them.
(I asked them. "PookARK!" they exclaimed, indignantly.)
Two piles of poo, destined for the compost heap, and further down the track intended to boost the growth of summer fruits and vegies - both gone.
But thankfully the poo thief left the eggs behind.
Anyone who has ever suffered such a loss will know how I am feeling.
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