Death on the patio

George has killed one of the black chickens, I think it's neck is broken. Mr F thinks that it's my fault as I gave the dogs what I thought was one of those filled bone-shaped chews, but he says it was a real bone and real bones make dogs aggressive and maybe she came a bit too close.
Anyway, George looks guilty, the bone is in the bin, all the other chickens are in hiding, and this lovely girl is dead. Now there are nine.