Chickies are two weeks old today! They’ve started taking short flights in the cage (and in the house), and lose a little more fuzziness every day.
We’ve been tracking their growth on a food scale.
For instance, here’s our tiny bantam, Beyoncé, getting weighed on successive days.
Three days old. We didn’t have the scale calibrated quite right, but she was probably around 30 grams.
7 days old.
Chunking up a bit, and it’s not just feathers.
That’s my baby!
Rachel’s learning how to graph their growth.
The weighing photos are some of their cutest.
Mercy looks so tender in one of her early photos. She’s still the smallest chick, despite her abundant fluff. It’s hard to believe she’ll be a giant Brahma chicken-the Queen of Chickens-one day!
This has to be one of Honey’s best pics. She looks so smug, like she knows she’s the plumpest chick in the flock.
Then there’s sweet Glory, posing like a supermodel.
The chicks have become pretty tame. This week we bought a secondhand dog playpen, and I’ve been sitting with them every day.
They usually flap around, pooping everywhere. That part is hard to get used to. But they’re so darn cute. I just wipe it up (and do a lot of laundry).
To continue taming the chicks, I try to offer little treats in my hand. The first few times, I just soaked their regular chick feed in water. According to the internet, chicks go wild for soaked feed. And as it’s literally their food and water, they’re nothing unsafe about offering it even to the youngest babies.
The internet was right. They loved it.
In subsequent days, though, I struck out. First it was scrambled eggs. Don’t be shocked—it’s not cannibalism! Chicks are literally nourished by the contents of their egg before hatching. So when they’re very young, or ill, an egg gently scrambled in the tiniest bit of oil is supposedly a wonderful thing. But my chicks had not read the internet, and weren’t at all interested in the egg.
Same goes for fresh-picked clover and chopped green grapes, supposed to be chick favorites. Both went over like chopped liver. (And I thought my humans were picky eaters).
But something even better happened. The chickies started climbing up on me! Maybe they’ve imprinted on me as mommy chicken. Maybe they just like climbing things. Most likely, they were chilly and seeking a heat source.
As nap time approached, more chicks piled on.
And more. They had a good snooze, and I had some very peaceful moments sitting there holding my warm little babies.
Then Thursday, when the chicks were 10 days old, Beyoncé got sick. She had diarrhea, a swollen crop in her neck, and was panting a lot. The other chicks were pecking at her more than usual (chickens are ruthless when they sense weakness). I worried about her all day and sought advice online.
Chicken forums said it could be coccidiosis, a common infection in young chicks. I overnighted some Corid (amprolium), which deprives the cocci organism of the thiamine it requires, thereby giving the chick’s immune system a chance to fight.
Many chicken people emphasized how delicate the chicks are at this age, and how they can deteriorate and die in a matter for hours.
Later that night, with Beyoncé looking worse, I contacted the Chicken Lady who sold us the chicks. Her reply began with, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think the chick is going to make it.” That scared me, I tell you. The Chicken Lady has a lot of chicken experience. We could only hope she was wrong.
All I could do until the medicine arrived was hold Beyoncé in my hands and keep her warm. I massaged her swollen crop and it did go down over time. Rachel and Joe started setting up a separate “chickie hospital” brooder, in case isolation was in order. But in the end she looked more comfortable with her sisters. Rachel prayed she would make it through the night.
And she did.
By the next morning, little Miss Beyoncé looked a lot brighter. She still tired more easily, though.
She really enjoyed taking a warm nap in my makeshift Birdie Bjorn. I might have imagined it, but the other chicks looked jealous.
That afternoon, she joined her sisters in a Mommy cuddle.
Then the other chicks started having diarrhea too. Now they’re all on the Corid (it’s mixed in their water). But they seem healthy and happy.
Beyoncé’s illness was our first scare with the chicks. I’m always surprised at how opening our hearts to love somebody, be it human or animal, dog or chicken, makes us vulnerable to hurt. Even the idea of losing this 50-gram tiny fluff ball, whom I’d known for 8 days at that point, made my heart ache.
Because all this was happening, I had to miss our church retreat. Joe and Rachel drove out for a weekend of woods and spiritual refreshment, while I stayed home to take care of the babies. We divide and conquer in this household.
That meant I had more time to work on chicken projects. Here’s our chicken yard in progress. The reddish coop is along the far fence. I spent the day digging deep holes and setting the wood fence posts in gravel and concrete. A recently constructed compost bin and fencing materials litter the foreground.
There was also chickie cuddling. Like, a lot of chickie cuddling.
Here’s a close up of little Mercy’s feathered feet. Remember, she’s the one who will grow up to look like she’s wearing pants and snowshoes:
Beyoncé also has feathered legs. I’m not sure why, except that as an Easter Egger, she’s likely a mix of several breeds.
As you can see, I didn’t get much else done because it’s so much fun to hang out with the chicks.
Little Glory fell right asleep in my hand. She’s getting to be the tamest one, but they are all pretty friendly and tame already.
Rachel and Joe came back after two days, a bit tired from all the excitement and activity of the retreat, and shocked at how much the chicks had grown.
Rachel spent some time getting reacquainted with everybody.
She was so relieved Beyoncé was better.
Our next adventure? Taking the chicks out for a little field trip in the yard, providing it’s warm out. They’re ready to explore a bigger world!
Our Year in Taiwan 