Not in possession of much intelligence, the chickens couldn't seem to find their home. My 5-year-old daughter, Ella, and I tried to catch the chickens, a sight which was humorous for any observers and helped me work off the calories from the Caesar salad I had for lunch with the physical exertion required. Chickens are fast, and they are agile. I am not.
Eventually, we did catch them all, installed them in their relocated home, and gave them some corn as a peace offering for the experience. When I last saw them they were busy looking for seeds and bugs in the grass, and I hope they have forgotten the trauma of the move. Next time I will move them while they are still contained in the chicken tractor after they have gone to bed or before I let them out in the morning.