Those Silkie Bantams are escape artists. That little yellow bantam baby chick will not stay in the pen. He or she (I have no idea which) is so quick and so tiny. Until just a couple of days ago, he was going through the 1″ chicken wire. He’s grown to where he can no longer get through the wire but he can escape underneath it with no effort at all. I have raked and shoveled dirt around every spot I see where they can be getting out and he still finds an escape route. I’ve put rocks and pieces of 2 x 4 in every low spot and . . there’s no keeping that little rascal in. The three Dominique babies stay real close to Mean Chicken and when she calls them, they come running but that little yellow Silkie has a mind of his own.
The ground is so dry and where they’ve been scratching around along the edges of the pen, it’s like baby powder fine. No matter how much filling in I do, they just scratch the dirt back away from the pen with ease, and it’s just enough of a hole for this little fellow to escape.
When he sees me coming, he would go running back under the fence and into the shelter of Mean Chicken’s domain. Now that I’ve plugged so many of the holes under the fence, he can’t always find his way back inside . . which means if Mr. Fox comes along, baby yellow chicken is going to be a snack!
I don’t think my grandparents worried so much about their baby chickens!
At the end of the day yesterday, the little yellow baby was so tuckered out, we couldn’t tell if he was sick or just tired. He wasn’t walking much and when it got time for Mean Chicken to take them back into the coop (which she does way before the other chickens go to bed . . I guess it’s kinda like human babies going to bed earlier than adults), he couldn’t even make it up the steps. Vince set up the “hospital” and we put him in there, thinking if he had food and water close and wasn’t running around like a wild child all day, maybe he would make it. That little chicken chirped so much that we weren’t even sure we would get any sleep so once the chickens were all inside the coop, we put him back with his family where he could stay warm and comfortable in the area where he was used to being.
This morning I let them out about 6:30. When Vince left to go to work about 6:45, he came back in the house and told me that the baby yellow chicken was out already so for now . . he’s going to spend the day in the holding cell. We’ll put him back in the coop with the others tonight and tomorrow, when we catch him out, he’ll go back into the holding cell.
He is most unhappy about being in there alone and he’s making sure this end of the county hears his complaints! Vince cut a hole in the gallon jug and put wood shavings in there and that’s his “nest”. Pretty creative on Vince’s part, huh?
Rebecca in SoCal says
This is so funny! You and Vince are going to keep that chick alive whether he likes it or not! Yes, I’m pretty sure your grandparents did not worry so about their chicks.
Marion Morgan says
Another gem from Judy, thank you for the fun of hearing about your brood.
diana purdy says
Poor little yellow chickie looks like he’s in prison! I do love hearing about the chicks and thier mamas,, does ‘mean chicken’ have a real name? and how is Miss Hattie doing, she’s taking a backseat to mean chicken! 🙂
Denise ~ justquiltin says
Solitary confinement – Little does he know it’s for his own good!
Vince did a very good job of making a nest for baby! What we do to keep our critters safe!
Now this gives “time out” a whole new meaning.
Joanne Caglione says
awe….sweet little chickie!!! Did you see my new babies on FB? OMG they are the cutest chicks…I put my incubator away till next spring – then, god willing, I will beg some hatching eggs from you….(I’ll pay of course)…love the silkies. Violet, my white silkie is no longer broody and back to laying lovely pink tinted eggs.
Deb k says
This is EXACTLY why I got rid of my 10 miniature horses. I fretted over them just like human babies. I was so afraid of the coyotes and the bully horses. I made sure one of us was home to put them in the barn before dark and I fretted over them when they were sick. I even had a hammock in the barn and slept there when one was sick. I put closed-circuit TV on the brood mares and had the monitor at my bedside. By the time they were ready to foal, I was so intune to their habits that I knew when they were ready to foal and the
Fam was in the stall for the birth of every foal. I wanred to interview every family who purchased a horse. I even purchased some back at a higher price for those I thought weren’t being cared for in a manner that met my expectations. That’s why I’m out of the farm business. I couldn’t afford to raise them as children and I couldn’t view them as anything other than precious babies. Clearly I’ll never be a hunter! My husband says I missed my calling and should have been a veterinarian.
Y’all are so entertaining!