A trip into the danger zone, i.e. the farm store, means we add two little chicks to the flock. Red has a poofy hood on the top of her (her?) head that just kills me, it's so cute. And Peanut is the teenyest chick ever. The thing with these two, is that the minute I looked at them, I had names for them. Plus, in doing the math regarding number of natural fatalities and number of roosters, a few more will help our odds of getting more egg laying hens. So home with us they go.
Red and Peanut are in the Rubbermaid bin that the seven started in, as they are smaller than the seven and got picked on when I put them in there. Talk about stress. You weigh a few ounces, get put into a new home with seven big strangers, only to get picked on immediately. The big ones are merciless, too.
That night, Red peeps wildly and just won't stop. Peanut is fine, just trying to get some sleep. I cradle Red till midnight, when I know she's good and tired, and place her in the bin in the warm towel I'd been holding her in. She falls asleep. Sheesh. It's like having a new puppy!
No comments:
Post a Comment