So much for peaceful mornings

Why is it when you plan a quiet, peaceful morning it all goes to hell in a handbasket?  Husband off fishing at 5am left me to snore blissfully in unison with Max at the end of the bed until a sneaky bit past 7:30am.  The sun gaining some momentum leads me to take my mug of tea out into the courtyard to enjoy the not so early morning.  Over the years of living here I've come to recognise the regular sounds of farm life.  The neighbour's cows, the lambs in the paddock next door to them and the familiar birds that live in our trees.  I've also come to recognise the sound of baby chickens being hatched. First one cheep, then another, then a chorus of cheep, cheeps.  We've been vigilant with the egg piles around the garden knowing that last year our chicken population spiralled out of control costing us a small fortune in chook food.  We've managed to sell most to a breeder and now have just a manageable few - until today.  Right under my nose the sound of cheep, cheep was getting louder.  It was coming from under the fountain.  In the dense shrub I couldn't even get a look through a gap, but could hear a gentle clucking of a proud mum.  Bennie unfortunately caught me looking and now is trying to get a look in.  Thinking they need rescuing he's barking at the shrubbery.  Being a retrieval dog he thinks it's his place to seek them out and bring them to me.  He would never hurt them but wouldn't get a chance as the mother hen would give him a piece of her mind if he came anywhere near them.  So rather than put up with the barking I bring him inside.  And before I can pick up my now barely warm mug of tea, I see Minnie scoot across the courtyard chasing a half dead sucked on mouse.  I think I'll stay in today.