Been a while since I wrote of their exploits.

Happy to report newbies Bourke and Wills and old mother hen are still living happy lives, although they are a little jittery at the moment.

Yes, life will never be the same again for these three after they stared death right in the eye a few weeks back and, thankfully, lived to tell the tale.

Death came knocking one morning in the form of a giant bird of prey.

For my wife it was one of those great moments in life where you find yourself in the right place at the right time to see something special.

Mmmm... pretty sure our chookies wouldn’t share the same appreciation for this moment, nor tag it special.

The day started like any other Saturday morning at our place.

The chookies were trying to rip the wire from their cage to get out because, apparently, patience doesn’t have any place in their life.

In a chook’s world an owner is supposed to rise from bed as soon as those first rays of morning sun warm the landscape and rush to the chook pen to open the door.

Clearly, our view is somewhat different and, through the depths of winter at least, they can wait.

Anyway, after finally getting their wish this morning, they rushed up the hill to devour the dinner scraps from the night before.

Then, as routine demands, they moved to the garden area off the front verandah to scratch and dispose of any tasty creepy crawlies.

As they happily went about this task, they were blissfully unaware death was closing in.

Well, in this case death actually came a-swooping in the form of giant eagle that flew in under the verandah and perched on the rail right in front of the lounge window to look down on “breakfast” below.

Now this provided a dilemma for my wife, who saw this play out from the couch... save the chookies or enjoy the spectacle of a giant eagle almost within arm’s reach.

In the end I reckon she opted for a little each way... watching the eagle with one hand firmly on the door handle ready to save those chookies should things get rough.

She need not have warned the chookies, for pretty soon they were well aware of how perilous life had become.

You know that old saying, running around like a chook with its head cut off... well, this was kind of like that.

The chookies were suddenly heading in all directions, squealing and squawking, darting in and through the bushes looking for cover.

The object of their attention was the sanctuary of the space under the house, but the dilemma they faced was the three metres or so of open ground they needed to cross to get there.

Clearly the eagle couldn’t have been hungry this day, for you would think he or she could have picked off one of those chookies in the blink of an eye.

Maybe he or she was just bored and looking to have some fun by sending our chookies scurrying.

Maybe he or she was feeling a little like the famous Monsier Creosote from Monty Python’s legendary flick The Meaning Of Life... couldn’t fit another sliver of food in, no matter how wafer thin.

Could the scurry and screech tactics employed by our chookies have confused this eagle and paid the ultimate dividend – their life?

Or were our chookies just plain lucky this day?

Whatever the reason, somehow they all got to that sanctuary under the house – so proud of them.

As soon as the chookies were safe, my wife rushed down the hall to get me so I could take in this great sight for myself.

Alas, the eagle had grown tired of all the commotion and bolted for somewhere quieter by the time I got to the lounge.

Thankfully, things are back to normal for our chookies after this harrowing ordeal.

They have returned to those other great crises that consume their lives.

Crisis such as sneakily trying to spend as much time as possible on the back door mat before they get the heave-ho because they just don’t understand that it doesn’t double as a toilet.

Things such as trying to get the dogs out of the kennel on the back verandah because, well, it’s just warmer in there than out in that wind.

Serious issues such as having to lower themselves to devour three-day-old bread instead of the fresh stuff. 

Yes, life ain’t that bad for a chookie these days... as long as they keep one eye on the sky.