I received a call the other day from a lady wanting to give me some chickens, after a few messages I had a location, and off we went. Now Spanish directions are never good, and I spend more time shouting at the sat nav and the co pilot in the car then focusing on where we are going. It came about that her "finca" was miles away from where she claimed, and then it begun to rain.
Rain never improves my mood, as I am very similar to the witch in the wizard of Oz and tend to melt in the rain, Finally we reached our destination, and off we went, on what would be a five minute walk in the rain, down a muddy slope, onto the edge of a mountain.
I stood there staring at a huge pile of rubbish, and asked where her finca was, she stated I was stood on it. Errrr nope love I was stood on a pile of rubbish, on the side of a mountain, in the rain.
She turned and pointed inside, and said that was where the chickens were, she was seriously having a laugh. Although I thought she was joking, she proudly told us that her dad lived in the cave next door.
I now had my "I am not impressed face" as it was chucking it down, and there was no roof, or walls in fact. All I had was a soggy cardboard box, and some terrified chickens to catch. After an hour of filth, stench and soaking conditions, we had managed to catch 14 chickens, and I admitted defeat.
It never ceases to amaze me that people think this is normal for animals to live in, or that they will also live in conditions that shock any average person. I am always being told that "the Canarians live differently" but this was beyond that. Come on I live in a goat shed, but it is clean, and does protect us from the elements, well most of the time. So, as we left all I could hope is that the old guy doesn't die in his cave, and be satisfied that we had changed the lives of these chickens.