25 of them and they all made it through the bowels of USPS. As I introduced them to their new living quarters, I dipped their beaks into the water so they knew where it was right away. They were all quite thirsty traveling all the way from Pennsylvania.
We ordered them from Freedom Ranger Hatchery (have a link), they were excellent to deal with.
but they can clear some serious bush.
This whole area was reclaimed along with the ancient logging road leading to it. This is where the chicken coop will go, rotating the fenced-in area for the chickens with the garden each season.
I wish I had a picture of what it looked like before.
That sac of shit ripped open the coop like a can of tuna, -1 chick :
A day working in the rain later, it’s structurally sound again.
Reinforced the front panel & added extra locking throughout.
Painting will have to wait for more clement weather.
The chicks still fit through the fence which is a problem since they’re getting chased by the big chickens. We can’t keep them in the coop all the time so here’s their new protection/containment.
We introduced the chicks to the 4 grown up chickens today. They shared the same quarters for weeks now and were able to get used to each other. Of course the big ones went immediately after the small ones to establish the pecking order.
It always breaks my heart but that’s the way it is. All I do is make sure one of them doesn’t get all the attention. Natural as it is, I’m still angry towards the big ones, especially considering they too were small before. I can’t help but grab a plastic rake and establish my pecking order if they go too hard on them. This has the double advantage of satisfying my need for justice while reinforcing my place at the very top of said order. All the chickens respect the crap out of me now and make way around me. That’s right, I’m the alpha-chicken!
Which is good because Rhode-Island reds are not shy at all which causes problems when locking them up every night among other things. It’s a healthy reminder that they are on the wrong end of the plastic rake.
No pics or video, I was too busy containing this ruckus.
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They spend the first few days of their lives standing; little by little they figure out they don’t have to and look like a bunch of sleepy drunks in the process.