Chickens!

I have lots of things to post about, but the chicks are taking precedence today.

Last Wednesday, 27 chicks arrived from Sand Hill Preservation Society in Calamus, Iowa.  Why so many from so far away? Well, I couldn't be satisfied with anything other than the Scots Dumpy, a 17th century Scottish heritage breed. Sand Hill was the only place offering Dumpy chicks...and there was a minimum order of 25 chicks.  That's not altogether unusual--that number allows the chicks to keep each other warm on their journey.  I ordered five Dumpies and 20 Orpingtons in assorted colors. Sand Hill sent me two extra Dumpies in case of loss.  I eagerly followed the tracking number they gave me.

At 5:44am, I got the text that they'd arrived at the A-Ville post office. I could hardly contain myself until the PO opened at 10:00am--then I got a call, a little after 6:30.  I could come and get them right away! I heard them chirping in the background.  I grabbed the kids and threw them in the car, handing Abby a waffle and munching on one myself.

I went to the service door and heard the little fluffballs making a racket.  The nice lady handled my enthusiasm with patience born of experience working in a rural post office, and handed me my box.  It gave new meaning to the phrase "fluff mail."

 Box o' Chicks

I opened the box and was relieved to find that all twenty-seven were living.  Picking up each one, I dipped its beak in water so it knew where to get a drink.   They quickly got the hang of it.  

 Then, I showed them their heater. I'm using this brooding plate instead of a heat lamp.  It mimics a mother hen, and they crawl underneath whenever they get cold. When I went in around sunset, all the chicks were underneath, only a few quietly chirping.

 I noticed that one chick was having a bit of trouble moving around and came back to check on it (I'm going to say "him" for simplicity, although I didn't know for sure).  When I came back, he was laying next to the brooding plate on his side, breathing heavily and not looking so good.  I quickly asked for advice in the Backyard Chickens Facebook group and instituted Chick ICU. First off: skin to skin. I tucked the lethargic and silent chick into my shirt, giggling about it.  I was pretty sure the chick wasn't going to make it but thought I'd give it a shot.  After about 30 minutes, the chick started chirping again so I took further measures.  I dipped his beak into sugar water, every ten minutes, and tucked him into a basket with heated rice packs.  The chirping increased.  After a few more rounds of sugar water, he started trying to stand again. Unfortunately, the chick had splayed legs. I taped his legs and started feeding him molasses mixed with egg yolks.  He ate some, and started trying to hop around.

 Things were looking up for "Wilbur," as I dubbed the runt chick.  But, then I had to make a decision: was I prepared to stay up all night to monitor the chick and make sure he could get food and water?

The answer was no.  I already have a baby who needs my care at night, and failure-to-thrive chicks don't always make it later on.  I put him back in the coop at bedtime, knowing he probably wouldn't make it but appreciating the learning experience.  Sure enough, he was dead the next morning.  But, I now know how to care for a sick chick!

The other 26 chicks have since thrived and grown like crazy.  I enjoy their antics and AW calls them "hilarious."