Husbanding Floyd: Fulfilling Destiny

One evening last week during the brief respite we had from the current heatwave, we had the windows open and were enjoying a breeze when we heard a god-awful cacophony coming from the chicken coop!  Immediately our protective instincts kicked in and we rushed down to chase away whatever predator was after our chickens to find...  nothing.

Assuming they were having a sibling spat and establishing pecking order, we returned to our own coop.

Husbanding Floyd: "Girl, You'll Be A Pullet Soon"

Technically, I suppose they already are.  Pullets, that is.  In a few days they'll be 9 weeks old and they are doing great.

Hi Mom!  Hi Dad!

We were told that the chicks imprint on and call Mother the first thing they see after hatching.  If that isn't a brooder hen it's whatever's available.  We figured for our chicks it was probably a pair of hands in white latex gloves.  Judging from the way they act when we approach their coop, they really did imprint on us!  As soon as they hear our voices, they run out of the coop or away from whatever they're doing and gather in the corner closest to our approach.

Husbanding Floyd: Da Girls are in da House!

Remember these cute, adorable little balls of fluff?

A few days ago around dusk I heard them kicking up a fuss and went downstairs to find them out of their pens perching on the mantel, the china closet, and any other tall available space they could wrap their birdy feet around.  The instinct to roost had kicked in!  "Okay," I told them, "You're big girls now.  Time to move to the big girls house!"  Thank god.  Brooding them in the downstairs suite wasn't one of our better ideas.

Husbanding Floyd: Sure, they're cute now....

Look what's taken up residence with us!

They arrived last Friday.  Ten Tetra Tint pullet chicks.  Our future laying flock.