Buh-GAWK!

They've arrived! 25 chicks ... well, 24, since one died on the way ... actually, 23, since one died night before last after everyone else apparently slept right on top of him. I've never before realized the true meaning of the phrase "a head like a day old chick." It's not really meaningful until one actually OBSERVES chicks of that age -- oh, and it's not a compliment.


It takes the little buggers approximately 2 nanoseconds to walk right through their freshly cleaned water dispenser, leaving woodshavings floating in it. Then they get down to dragging all their feed out of the feeder and leaving it strewn about. Then they all decide to crowd to the same place at the same time -- up against the wall of their little pen. Someone is inevitably getting squished by everyone else, but can't figure out what to do about it. The idea of moving seems not to occur!



But they're really dreadfully cute, and for some reason, fascinating to watch ... I could sit there and watch them pip about for ages. I've attached some pictures for your viewing pleasure -- none of them very good. No one would hold still. The golden/red chicks are either Plymouth Reds or a meat cross we got (which name I cannot remember). The dark ones are either Wyandottes or Arcaunas. It's hard to tell without looking at them in real life. And then, I append a picture of James, one of our two cats. He is not out in the shop with the chicks, though he would dearly love to be. He is our resident mouser -- he's caught 3 so far, just in two years, and entirely as an indoor cat! Our (cyber)resident cat-lover, Lady Eloise, reminded me that I was remiss in a previous promise to post pictures of James & his brother Max. Max, however, is being recalcitrant, in a feline sort of manner.

love, kristin