If you remember I mentioned a few posts ago that I took little comfort in that the "Chickens were legit." In actuality, this was just barely even the case and thus a VERY good thing. Apparently you can have chickens, just not "too" many. 4 per half acre to be exact. We being 1.25 acres JUST made the cut. Wait, did I mention that we now had 10 chickens?
Sigh, its been a long month. So, after acquiring Laya, and quasi losing "the artist formerly known as Bess" due to the fact that she was now Brewster. I decided (split secondly of course) that we maybe needed 2 more hens. Partially because Laya's traumatizing introduction had made her a tad bit skittish, and thus she didn't exactly warm up to my son (or anyone) as intended. But mostly because I was at the local feed and seed for unrelated reasons and convinced that they were staring at me, just begging for a home. And so away we walked away with our new "Disney halloween lineup". Two beautiful and very young Americanas. Sally, named after the character from "The Nightmare Before Christmas"and Katrina, after Miss Van Tassel from the"Legend of sleepy hollow". Both birds seemed at least happily curious about their new adventure. And away home it was for us in order to figure out just where we were going to nestle the new"hatchlings".
One thing was for sure, which we had learned first hand, we could NOT place them immediately with the already established flock. I just really wasn't up for another "into the woods" adventure (especially without comical musings and spontaneous musical numbers).
I built their very own, very private and very TEMPORARY roosting quarters in the manager of our second goat pen. Which currently (as well as conveniently) was not in use. As it was meant to only be sectioned off when the "mommy" needed privacy in order to nurse her babe(s). And since chickens and goats get along quite well, the chickens eat the bugs that bug the goats and the goats don't impale them, it was a good match. I soon discovered what WASN'T a good match though. My son.
I gave him the benefit of the doubt when the first 4 were "stand-offish" to say the least. I again afforded him that same benefit due to Laya's high adrenaline mishap introduction. With Sally and Katrina, it was becoming more of a pattern than a random obstacle to be jumped. Explaining to a 4 year old boy how he is to handle a chicken and how he is most DEFINITELY not to, was apparently more difficult than once thought. For example. How does one foresee the possibility that someone might stuff a chicken in their jacket while leaving to run errands, and then brandish it suddenly in a health food store whilst exclaiming, "EWWWWW IT POOPED ON ME!" Or, how about this treat, while you are busily cleaning the coop, someone (not naming any names) sitting a poor unsuspecting little one, on your monkey-swing (disc swing) and then, spinning it as fast as little 4 -year- old- arms can, sending it flying in order to, "test her Jedi skills." This was definitely a love- HATE relationship and I am pretty confidant you can guess who was hated. My son, even to me, was very reminiscent of this. Still, he wanted "pets".
Thankfully, things were going well with the new temp-setup that I had built, which afforded me time to establish a more permanent residence for them as a structural "add-on" with safety features, to our already existing coop. It worked so well, that there just might have been room for 2 more. Empty space is wasted space right? So we excitedly (some of us more excited than others) scampered back to the feed and seed and procured 2 more very-very young Americana hens. Lacey and Daisy. Of which I had made a mental note that I would watch him interact with very closely.
He seemed partial to "Daisy". Poor, poor, Daisy. I am fairly certain that inside of 10 minutes, given the choice, she would have more than happily surrendered herself to be used as "nuggets" if only it meant that she didn't have to endure this kid's torment any longer. More than obviously, we had a long road ahead of us.
WE are currently still on said road. And while "Rome wasn't built in a day", IF this were in fact "Rome", my "builder" might need to be fired/beheaded. Which depends, and very much so, on the moment/situation as to which punishment fits that bill...
I gave him the benefit of the doubt when the first 4 were "stand-offish" to say the least. I again afforded him that same benefit due to Laya's high adrenaline mishap introduction. With Sally and Katrina, it was becoming more of a pattern than a random obstacle to be jumped. Explaining to a 4 year old boy how he is to handle a chicken and how he is most DEFINITELY not to, was apparently more difficult than once thought. For example. How does one foresee the possibility that someone might stuff a chicken in their jacket while leaving to run errands, and then brandish it suddenly in a health food store whilst exclaiming, "EWWWWW IT POOPED ON ME!" Or, how about this treat, while you are busily cleaning the coop, someone (not naming any names) sitting a poor unsuspecting little one, on your monkey-swing (disc swing) and then, spinning it as fast as little 4 -year- old- arms can, sending it flying in order to, "test her Jedi skills." This was definitely a love- HATE relationship and I am pretty confidant you can guess who was hated. My son, even to me, was very reminiscent of this. Still, he wanted "pets".
Thankfully, things were going well with the new temp-setup that I had built, which afforded me time to establish a more permanent residence for them as a structural "add-on" with safety features, to our already existing coop. It worked so well, that there just might have been room for 2 more. Empty space is wasted space right? So we excitedly (some of us more excited than others) scampered back to the feed and seed and procured 2 more very-very young Americana hens. Lacey and Daisy. Of which I had made a mental note that I would watch him interact with very closely.
He seemed partial to "Daisy". Poor, poor, Daisy. I am fairly certain that inside of 10 minutes, given the choice, she would have more than happily surrendered herself to be used as "nuggets" if only it meant that she didn't have to endure this kid's torment any longer. More than obviously, we had a long road ahead of us.
WE are currently still on said road. And while "Rome wasn't built in a day", IF this were in fact "Rome", my "builder" might need to be fired/beheaded. Which depends, and very much so, on the moment/situation as to which punishment fits that bill...
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