The Chickens are here

The girls are almost two weeks old. I’m not sure that equates a “saga” but there is no end in sight…we are in this for the long haul.

The girls are the chickens. I think they are all girls. (We paid for them to be all girls). In “farm” language, they are called pullots. All girls.

We have tried to be consistent about talking to them and calling them girls. (“Hi girls. Good morning girls. Chick chick chick.”) We hoped this would help them get used to us. We want them to like us. So much so that we bought meal worms, and chicken stick to hang and even a little food ball. We want them to love us and equate our presence with good treats.

They are starting to get feathers on their wings and starting to get little tail feathers. All but one.

We have a sick sister-chick. She is smaller than the others and has a bald booty. (The bald butt was the dead giveaway for her “sickness”…I didn’t have to google. )

We watched her for a while. She wasn’t eating. She wasn’t socializing. She was laying around and moving out of the way when another chick was around. So I decided to pull her out of the brooder (a.k.a. Little chicken box) into her own pen. Two reasons: so she didn’t have to compete for food and so she didn’t share her yucks with the other girls.

By day 2 of her isolation, she was already looking better and seemed to have more energy. She has been eating and drinking like a chicken rock star!

We will leave her in her isolation pen for a few more days. I hope she makes it. We bought 20 and expected to lose several to sickness and predators but I’m not ready to face that part of farm life.

(Isolation pen is just a galvanized bucket with chicken wire wrapped around it.)

In a few weeks they will be big enough to feed food scraps and let them out in the yard. We are ready for the days when they come to us instead of running to the far corner of the brooder. And my sister girl is ready to cuddle some sister chicks!

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