One chicken is missing. It is never Buster, the rooster, always one or more of the girls. Last Friday, three of them spent the night on the outside.
We can only hope for the same outcome - one slightly wet and bedraggled chicken in the pen in the morning. I wish she had company. Better yet, I wish I knew where she was nesting so that I could take her back in. I think I will look for her. I'm worried.