Outside at last

In the silver lining department, the ground was very soft following the heavy rains. I put up the chick fence around Coop 1 with little trouble, getting the fence as straight and taught as possible. We have learned from experience that chicks will climb right up a sagging fence, much like kittens on the drapes. I was proud of my work. Until I realized that the enclosure looked small because we have TWO rolls of chick fence. Well. I’m not doing it over, at least not until the chicks are big enough to need more space.

We didn’t let the chicks out right away because the cold, rainy weather persisted. Finally on Friday, we opened up the door to the outside world. The chicks were unimpressed even though there was a feeder with no waiting right there. They came right up to the edge, but would not step out.

I'm not going out there--you go first

I'll go down to the board, but no farther!

This video shows them taking some interest in the plants outside the door, although they seem suspicious of actually stepping outside.

By evening, however, they were lounging on the grass.

Out for an evening stroll

I didn’t see anyone in the run at dusk when I shut the coop. It was time to clip the pullets’ wings, but I didn’t have the moral fortitude for it before bed. I thought probably it would be easy enough to grab them during the morning feed frenzy. In case you don’t remember, we take the food away at night so the meat chickens don’t grow faster than their legs and get lame.

Saturday morning, I went out to Coop 1 and found the scissors. I put the feeder in the coop and started grabbing pullets and clipping the feathers on their right wing. Three Dominiques, one white true blue, one tan true blue—Where is the dark brown true blue? At first I thought she was under the heat table, but this proved not to be the case. Shoot! I had not counted when I put them to bed the night before. Where was she? I went back to the run and looked everywhere. It didn’t take long, since it is such a small enclosure. Nothing. I didn’t know what to do. If she had spent the night outside, she might have died of exposure or been killed by a raccoon. Nothing to do but carry on with the chores, I suppose. I got the outside waterer from the run and took it around by the hose. I dumped, rinsed, and filled it. As I walked back to the run, there was the little brown true blue running along the outside of the fence! I don’t know where she spent the night, and she was not forthcoming with that information. I held open the fence, and she trotted right in, going straight into the coop. I went around to verify that she was, indeed, the missing chick and to clip her wing. I named her Amelia (as in Earhart) for her wanderlust and sense of adventure. Other than having cold feet, she seemed no worse for the wear.

Amelia, the Wanderer

All the pullets are working on their grown-up feathers. Here is Madeline. When I took this picture, she was cheeping loudly and trying to find her way back to her comrades after going through a hole under the windbreak outside the coop door. She was alarmed to find herself all alone, but she figured it out quickly. Soon they will be wandering all over without care.

Madeline trying to find her way back to the coop

This picture of the True Blues shows their size relative to the meat chickens.

Amelia, Bianca, and Unnamed Tan Pullet with four meat chickens.

The little white one, Bianca, is experiencing delayed development. About a week ago, I noticed that she was looking puny. I hand fed her chick feed and yogurt for a couple of days. She perked up but is still behind in her growth. She gets right in there at the feeder, so I’m not worried about her anymore. She has developed an unhealthy attachment to one of the meat chickens. She follows him around and snuggles up next to him when she’s cold. That relationship is going nowhere, I can tell her that. Chickens do seem to bond with chickens of similar color (bird of a feather…), and Hilda worries that she will be the only white hen. I remind her that chickens have the attention span of a gnat, and she will not pine for long.