The Call Again Farm Journal

This morning, I was awoken at 5:39 in the morning.  The post office had called, and my chicks had arrived to get them.  Dianna and I got dressed, and drove down to the post office.  We range the bell at the back entrance, and, after waiting impatiently for at least three minutes, a postal worker with the box of chicks in hand opened the door.  We chatted for a couple of minutes about the behavior of other chicks they've had at the post office over the years before leaving.  The whole ride home, I held the chicks on my lap and talked to them.  They liked the sound of "Momma's" voice, and quieted down a lot.  They'd just start to fall asleep, and then we'd have to stop at another stop sign, and the chicks would start crying again.

We brought them out to the work shop, the building we brood chicks in.  (In this case, "brood" refers to humans using technology to keep young chicks warm, not a broody hen keeping her eggs or chicks warm.)  Before setting each chick in the brooder Bob and I had made out of two cardboard boxes, I dipped each chicks beak in food and water.  

I'm not sure this is necessary in chickens, but the first baby bird I ever had were turkeys, for which it is recommended.  If you don't dip a baby turkey's beak in food and water it may not know how to eat and drink and end up dying from dehydration or starvation.  I think I've read somewhere that this is more of a problem for turkeys than chickens, but I forget where I read that, so I'm not taking chances.

Dianna and I have been going to check on the chicks every fifteen minutes to make sure the temperature in the brooder is okay.  The chicks need a temperature of 95 degrees Fahrenheit during their first week.  We provide this heat through the use of a heat lamp, which is raised or lowered to control the temperature.

The chicks are so cute!  (Yes, everyone says this about chicks, but it's true!)  They're tiny balls of fluff.  Really, they look like golf balls with legs and a head.  Intellectually, I know that they must have bodies, but sometimes I wonder.  I can't feel a body beneath all those downy feathers!  

I picked up a chick a little while ago when I was checking on the temperature and called the dog over.  He gave me a look that clearly said,  "Why are you torturing me like this?"  Six years ago, we'd just gotten a guinea pig, which Bob was holding.  The dog came up and tried to eat it.  We were furious, and told the dog off vehemently.  Ever since, he's been quite afraid of animals guinea pig size or less.  His feelings for my birds aren't helped by the fact that two years ago, Blue and French Hen invented a game called "Chase the Dog".  However, the dog started to overcome his fears today.  He sniffed the chick when I held it up to him and, after I praised him, he licked the chick!  It wasn't that he wanted to eat it, I don't think, but rather that he was treating it like a puppy.

The only disappointing thing is I don't know what kind of chicks I have.  They're an assortment of four kinds of Colored Range Broilers, ColorYield, Tricolor, Redbro, and Yellow.  I was hoping I would know how many of each I have, but all I can say with certainty is that I have at least three Tricolors.  Oh, well.  I'll know soon enough, when they get their adult feathers in a few weeks.

The other new arrivals today are poults (baby turkeys).  Two hatched in the incubator around 7 a.m., one around 8:30 a.m., and one just before 1 p.m.  This is a very disappointing yield, but I have had a lot of trouble with temperature control, so I'm not too surprised.  On the bright side, I know that there's at least two more eggs still may hatch, and I hoping some more will surprise me.