Guess what David2 and I did all weekend? We bought chickens. We went mad.
The other boys were at their Dad’s and so we had no cooler heads to stop the insanity. Here’s what we bought yesterday when we went to Lilydale:
They’re his babies. Three day old Silky chicks. When they grow up they’ll look like this. How could we possibly resist anything so ridiculous?
At the moment they live on his desk, but soon they’ll graduate to a bigger box and then into a dog crate. They’ll be sharing his room for the next couple of months. He was desperate to have them, so it’ll be a big learning curve for him.
Last night as he was going to bed he was whingeing, “They won’t shut up.”
He already had a towel draped over the top of their box. I remembered the nice boy we bought them from saying that they’ll cheep if they’re cold, so I went and got another (dark) towel to add to the top of the box, being careful that it didn’t touch the desk lamp. Didn’t really fancy being burned to a crisp in our beds because David2 wanted to imprint some chicks. I also put a big cardboard box on its side to block the light from the lamp from his bed. The chicks got quieter once the second towel went on and David2hasn’t surfaced yet, so i have no idea how they all survived the night.
“Being a parent is hard!” he said as I left the room.
When I was in year 11 Biology I imprinted 2 chicks and they lived with us until they reached the gangly adolescent stage, when I gave the remaining one to my friend’s Dad who had chooks. (One got eaten by a cat when we left them with a friend of mine when we went away for the weekend. Mother Nature is cruel.) I enjoyed doing it and I think David2 will like it too, particularly as we’re going to keep any that don’t turn out to be roosters. The really good thing is that the nice boy called Jordan who sold them to us will definitely take back any roosters, as he has no trouble selling them. So we don’t have to face the grim possibility of being ruthless to any fluffy little crowers. I figured that out of 4 babies we have a good chance of keeping a couple.
The coop and run we’re now using will be given to the silkies in a couple of months, because on SATURDAY David2 and I went to Emerald and bought Buffy and Willow, the Isa Browns.
This one is Buffy. She and Willow hate my guts and curse the day they ever came to our place.
“Will it be ok to put the new hens in with the ones we’ve had for a week?” I asked the lady on the phone the night before.
“Do you have a separate coop? No? Well… they’re all young so it should be alright,” she said.
ALRIGHT? It’s been like World War 3 for chooks all weekend.
Buffy is older then Willow. Willow still hasn’t grown the comb on the top of her head, and she spends most of her time hiding in a nesting box away from our white ones. The white ones hate the brown ones with a passion and torment them with glee.
This is where they spend their time. This is an action shot when I lifted the roof to snap some shots. Willow is depressed and has her head in the corner of the nesting box.
Buffy starts running because…
… Maggie came in to beat her up again.
Plans are afoot to build a bigger run and coop, so the silkies can have this one. The poor brown chooks need some more space to get away.