Chickens Revisited
I gave in to the pleas of my son and my own desires, and we have four small chicks, now two weeks old. At first glance they are cute little fuzzballs, two little wild-looking Silver-Laced Wyandottes and two little yellow Buff Orpingtons.
At second glance, not all is simple in the world of chicks.
They tend to pair up by type, which interested me; they know whether they match or not. The Buffies are friendly little birds, who don't mind all that much about being caught and petted. The Wyandottes (and aren't chicken breed names wonderful? Even before you get into the fact that both Goodreads and Facebook are quite sure it ought to be Anecdotes and Wellingtons? There's a story there...)are wilder, more likely to run away from a hand and more likely to shrilly complain when caught. I thought about getting one each of the four varieties present, but that would have required me to catch a Barred Rock and an Americauna. If I can't when they're a week old, I don't want those, and I hear the latter is a naughty breed generally.
My son, internet handle Mowgli, named them Keenakurra, Kunaletta, Kunakootta, and Love of Mowgli. The first two are the Wyandottes. The other day all four were clamoring at the front of the cage for some explore-the-porch time, and seeing no harm in it, I opened their door. Once they actually could get out, they all thought better of it, and the two Buffies went for a snack. The Wyandottes stared over the edge for a moment, thinking it over, and then Keenakurra headed for the food as well. She pecked the Buffies away from it, drove them along the edge of the cage, found a good spot, and whalloped them over the edge.
If she'd tried with just one, she would have succeeded in her experiment; as it was, she didn't knock either very far, and after a moment of flapping and peeping on the sloped mesh of the door, they hustled back up and hurried back to the food. Even so, I'm impressed. It certainly looked as though she wanted them to go first so she could see if anything bad happened. It isn't bad planning for a two-week-old chicken.
Some people think that humor and animals are not appropriate matter for real writers. I like to think either, or both, are fair game for learning something, and isn't that what writing is really for?
At second glance, not all is simple in the world of chicks.
They tend to pair up by type, which interested me; they know whether they match or not. The Buffies are friendly little birds, who don't mind all that much about being caught and petted. The Wyandottes (and aren't chicken breed names wonderful? Even before you get into the fact that both Goodreads and Facebook are quite sure it ought to be Anecdotes and Wellingtons? There's a story there...)are wilder, more likely to run away from a hand and more likely to shrilly complain when caught. I thought about getting one each of the four varieties present, but that would have required me to catch a Barred Rock and an Americauna. If I can't when they're a week old, I don't want those, and I hear the latter is a naughty breed generally.
My son, internet handle Mowgli, named them Keenakurra, Kunaletta, Kunakootta, and Love of Mowgli. The first two are the Wyandottes. The other day all four were clamoring at the front of the cage for some explore-the-porch time, and seeing no harm in it, I opened their door. Once they actually could get out, they all thought better of it, and the two Buffies went for a snack. The Wyandottes stared over the edge for a moment, thinking it over, and then Keenakurra headed for the food as well. She pecked the Buffies away from it, drove them along the edge of the cage, found a good spot, and whalloped them over the edge.
If she'd tried with just one, she would have succeeded in her experiment; as it was, she didn't knock either very far, and after a moment of flapping and peeping on the sloped mesh of the door, they hustled back up and hurried back to the food. Even so, I'm impressed. It certainly looked as though she wanted them to go first so she could see if anything bad happened. It isn't bad planning for a two-week-old chicken.
Some people think that humor and animals are not appropriate matter for real writers. I like to think either, or both, are fair game for learning something, and isn't that what writing is really for?
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