Gloria our hen flew in on a fast train from Hollywood. She loves to take centre stage, strutting around the garden like a superstar. She really owns that red carpet, striking a pose by the paparazzi to make sure she hits the front pages. Gloria is her stage name, at home she answers to Lucy, reads the guardian and knits jumpers for the smaller chickens. She’s a real softy, but I don’t let her hear me say that.