My gawky, adolescent chickens were finally moved out of the house yesterday. I simply couldn’t take the mess or, uh, aroma, any longer. Temporarily, I have got them still in their wire dog crate in the fenced pen behind the house. I can keep a closer eye on them there for a few days. Unfortunately, I thought one of them was dead when I went to check this morning. However, when David went out with me to remove it, it was up walking around. This is the one that hasn’t looked good ever since I first brought it home. Quite frankly, I’ve been surprised that it is still alive.
The others were occasionally pecking at it this morning so I thought it would be better to separate it. I got our cat carrier out and put the ailing chickie in there with food and water. I also added a few drops of colloidal silver to its water. I rather doubt it will make it but I have to do what I can. If, by some miracle, it lives, it is likely to be a rather spoiled pet.
I’ll get some pictures this afternoon and post them. They aren’t quite so cute at the moment…sort of like that awkward stage a lot of kids go through. Not mine, though. Mine were always gorgeous. Aggravating at times, but always cute.
Now I need to go get ready so we can take David out to lunch for Father’s Day. Chris, Lisa and Justin will all be there and maybe my parents.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there!
Ask Meme (Betty Park of course) about her chicken Phil that she used to have. He started out as a little chick from an elementary class, and she named him Phil after the principal at the school. Then she realized that Phil was a girl, but the name stuck. He was quite spoiled.