Chickens

I’ll Fly Away

The chicks are already starting to fly a little. They can flutter up to the top of their water dispenser, so it’s only a short hop from there to The Outside World (meaning the bathtub their brooder is sitting in.) Sigh…only their second day here and already they’re trying to fly the coop. So we put a screen on top to keep them in. Also put a stick in the brooder because they need to practice roosting. The stick totally blew their little chicken minds. Abigail poked at it, and when it moved (as a result of her poking at it), they both shrieked and flapped their stubby little wings.

Meet the peeps. On the


Meet the peeps. On the left is Abigail, the Golden Laced Wyandotte. On the right is Eleanor, the Rhode Island Red. We chose the name Eleanor because, like Mrs. Roosevelt, she is very outspoken on behalf of her fellow chicks. And like Mrs. Adams, our Abigail lacks a formal education and spent her formative years on a small farm. Posted by Hello

And here’s a chick. Oh,


And here’s a chick. Oh, make that a couple of chicks. We have not named them yet, so right now they are just “the Rhode Island Red” and “the golden Wyandotte.” That won’t last. We’ve decided to name all our hens after first ladies, but we have not yet decided which ones fit these two personalities. Posted by Hello

Here’s our chick brooder: a


Here’s our chick brooder: a plastic tub in our downstairs bathroom with a heat lamp over it, a thermometer, and some food and water. The chicks seem to enjoy the newspaper. They pick at the pictures as if they’re food. Nobody ever said hens were smart. Posted by Hello