In the scant four weeks of their little lives, my wee ones have grown from cute downy chicks into that sixth-grade school photo most of us would rather forget:
While their appearance is quickly and radically changing, their temperaments have remained much as first observed. My busy, bossy Americana, now dubbed Taz (for the Tasmanian devil of Bugs Bunny cartoon lore), shows worrisome signs of being a rooster. S/he is not only the most assertive, but peeps continually when eating. (A chivalrous rooster will call his girls to food, and will also tidbit, the endearing practice of picking up and dropping a special treat before a favorite hen.) My Welsummer remains the quietest, least assuming chick.
Here they are, a few days out of the egg:
And now, 25 days later:
Thankfully, we still enjoy each other. Before I know it, they’ll be sullen teenagers, ignoring me except when they want the keys to the car.
One other item from today’s Poultry Press: My special-needs hen, Chirp, gave up being broody after I removed her from the nest box a few nights ago and placed her on the roost with the other girls. She awoke the next morning having entirely forgotten that she wanted to be a mother.
I will not tire of reading about the hens and possible rooster. It is a wonderful serial
Thanks for your appreciation, friend, and I’ll keep you posted. For now, I’m steeling myself against the increase in auto insurance premiums. 🙂
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Haha I’m giggling a bit here now. Thanks for the update on the little ones. Kind of looking forward to the post on teenage years 😀