Some would call us irresponsible, launching into this whole chick rearing thing in such a go-with-the-flow manner. In our defence, The Renovator had read an article on it in a back issue of NZ Lifestyle Block , The Farmer had seen chicken babies as part of his off-Homestead work, and The Goat Herd had undertaken a bit of good old googling, but there’s only so much you can learn second hand. Besides, there wasn’t really much room for any human input; Quilla had it all under control despite undertaking no research whatsoever.
By Tuesday evening, seven of the nine eggs had hatched with all but one resulting in the expected cheeping, fluffy bundle. The other was jettisoned from the nest in a very Circle of Life/you win some, you lose some/no nonsense manner by Mumma Quilla. The two remaining eggs still snuggled, full of promise, in the middle of what was now effectively a maternity ward.
Wednesday was The Bean Counter’s birthday so the morning was a little more slow moving. By the time we hurriedly crunched down the path to answer the collective call of the hungry menagerie, a change of address had taken place in the birthing unit. Mum and six chicks were now very much at home in Duckingham Palace leaving behind one very unhatched (and, further investigation has since proven, unhatchable) egg and one shrilly cheeping half in and half out baby. What to do, what to do…
Some of us pushed for the let nature take it’s course option while others were a little less David Attenborough. In the end, the chick was freed from it’s shell, placed in front of its mother and then us humans went out for a birthday lunch while time took care of everything.
Except it didn’t.
Intervention occurred in the form of a hot water bottle, an old merino top and some warmish oatmealy water (it just seemed like a good thing to dispense, alright?!). A hearty cheeping soon had those on grave digging duty standing at ease but all did not appear well in the chicks hind quarters. Googling informed us the chick was suffering from Spraddle or Splayed Leg, an easily corrected condition (apparently) where the legs bend outwards (think a beginner ice skater) which was in all probability caused by its over-extended battle to exit the egg shell.
So, long story shorter than it could have been, we now have an indoor chick housed in the old aquarium in The Renovators room.
4 thoughts on “Responsibly Irresponsible”
Ahw, Farm Girl safes the day and a valueable chick!!! Quilla seems a stern but good mom. I am always mesmerized that little chick’s
right…did again…anyhue little chicks are too cute and so cozy to see them nesstle under mom’s warm feathers;0) Have great day!
Well done Quilla – she achieved an excellent hatch rate, and clearly has wonderful mother hen instinct. I hope the efforts with Kormie pay off and I know that things will be hard for Farm Girl in particular if they don’t, but without wanting to sound too callous, you can expect to lose more than one, despite best intentions of humans and hens. Looks like they’re thriving, though and they’ve hatched at a lovely warm time of year (lucky you – we just had a thumper of a wind storm, and my driveway is awash from the rain), which helps a lot for their survival. It won’t be long before you can begin taking guesses at genders – does Farmer know what breed of hen the eggs came from? It might help with the guesswork…
How fun! I wish them all the best. Maybe one day I will take the plunge and get some chickens too.