Big Day for the Chickies

So the chicks are in the big bad world on their own now, frolicking in their run during the day and roosting in the coop at night. It’s been two nights in that coop and both times I had to forcibly throw them all in there, two at a time, slamming the sliding door behind me as others tried to pop back out. In the morning they run out of there like there’s a dragon burning off their tail fathers. Today I left the door open in the hopes they’d get used to the coop. They seem to be hopping in and out of it willingly now. Perhaps tonight won’t be so dramatic when I have to lock them all in.

The coop still needs a guard around the boxes so the eventual eggs won’t roll out, screening over the two vents, some perches, and a shutter for the window. Even without it’s a damn fine coop.  They’ll realize this in time, I hope. I spent $12 supporting a local ma and pop shop by buying the tiniest bale of straw I have ever seen. When I was in Maine I was buying straw for $3 a bale and the bale was almost too large to fit into the back of the RAV. I wasn’t complaining! I wish I could find a farm here like that. I like helping out the ma and pa shops but whew that was ridiculously overpriced. To Agway or Tractor Supply I go…

Meanwhile I think I ended up with two, maybe even three, roosters. I’m not thrilled by this prospect. I am told they may take as long as 16 weeks to crow and until then I’ll just be left to guessing. I will just have to keep my ears open and my fingers ready to post an ad for a rooster at a moment’s notice. I am not going to put my neighbors through the noise of a regular rooster. If the mystery chick is not a rooster I’ll be shocked as the little booger likes to pick continuous fights with everyone. It is a bully, standing on the heads of the other chicks when they’re trying to sleep, body slamming them, stealing their treats, and chasing them around. It’s also pretty in charge about being the first to the food and water bowl. And it is a bulky little bird. Maybe though, maybe. I think I’ll name it Pesto after the bitchy little pigeon that’s always ranting on the Animaniacs. Not only does he act like that he also looks like a pigeon.

I haven’t named many of the birds, only the ones I can pick out. The friendliest bird by far is one of the barred rocks, as chance would have it the one who is marked very poorly. She’s almost all black with a little white here and there. What she lacks in beauty she makes up in being super sweet, sitting on my lap every time I go out to play with them. She actually gets jealous if I try to pick anyone else up. I’ve named her Josephine. She and Boekal remain my favorites. Boekal knows her name now and whenever I call it she’ll lift up her head, look me dead in the eye, and defiantly walk in the opposite direction, unless she’s in a friendly mood, which is about once every three or four days. The partridge rock that I believe to be a rooster I have just been calling ‘Roo. He (or hopefully she!) has a comb twice the size as his sisters so I am dubious.

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