Archive of Past News of the Farm:
November 16, 2009 Leftovers, Birds & Animals |
November 16, 2009
Leftovers, Birds & Animals
Greetings Friends of the Farm,
If only we had left a bit earlier.
Sunday afternoon, we were fixing to leave the farm and head over to some art studios to be voyeurs at the annual East Austin Studio Tour, when a lady and her small daughter walked up. The mom cuddled a baby Leghorn chick -- likely a week old -- that she had found on the side of the road a few days ago, and since they have three dogs, and since the daughter had almost stepped on the infant a couple of times, mom thought they should offer her (or him) to us, as we have chickens.
Boy, do we have chickens. Guilty as charged.
This was a city version (but much more polite!) of what happens constantly in rural areas, and unfortunately often at our Milam County farm. There, people throw their leftover dogs and cats at our grassy driveway, in hopes that we have NO pets and are desirous of many. Over the years, the tossers have been successful, and Larry thinks he has six or seven cats (all are now neutered). Who can count so many? It's like when folks ask me how many chickens I have....oh, maybe 100, or probably more -- who can count them; they flit here and there so rapidly (and none are neutered.)
So having a soft heart to go with a soft head, how could I say "no"? Especially with Larry standing beside me with a resigned, but tender, look on his face. A chick must be with a flock, not in solitary confinement with only giant creatures for company (or with dogs yearning to practice their instincts.) But this chick is two months behind the 9-09-09ers that now frolic like ten-year-old girls in the big Hen House. She (or he) would be the misfit. The youngest, left out of all the Big Kid activities. It would be pitiful to see. I explained all of that to mom, but of course, being with the Niners obviously was the best choice. Better than being trampled. Better than being the rabbit for the greyhounds.
So we made the transfer, from mom's belly warmth to mine, while the little girl said "no." But she became distracted by the sand pile, and a bit more sanguine as we told her she'd be able to come back and visit the wee chick (who would soon be unrecognizable to the girl, as a chick grows so fast, but mom can deal with that plaintive "You said..." later.)
They left, and Larry and I brought out the tiny chick cage, outfitting it with little bowls of water and feed. Yes the feed was wrong, as it is for pullets over two months old, but it would have to do. No feed stores open on Sundays. I set the cage on the ground in the midst of the Niners, and they immediately gathered around to check out the newest diversion, the leftover chick. They stood on top of the cage to get a better look at the feed inside. What if it was more delectable than theirs?
When we returned from the tour, darkness was nigh and most of the Niners were fighting and squealing for the preferred perch positions. So I installed the little cage under a perch, very close to the flock but not right under a, ahem, tail. The chick was happy as she could hear the others' quarrels. But she would have to sleep alone. Not touching any other chick. And the next couple of nights will be very cold. Ooh, what to do. A chick, totally alone in the farm house, is a terribly sad situation. There'd be lots of pitiful peeping.
Larry came up with the solution: get a few more chicks so that she (or he) would be a part of her own little flock. In fact, being several days older, she would be, not the leftover chick, but the Boss Chick! Perfect solution, except the additions would mean I'd have to use the Mexican bird cage and it won't fit in the perching area. Well, it will be too cold out there for infants anyway.
(Boss Chick, front, and the Babies, in the kitchen with towel and heat light....)
Carol Ann