It’s Raining Chicks!
My animals love to test me. One Moody Mother Clucker recently created quite a situation for herself & her chicks, requiring a dramatic rescue with a ladder, bucket, and fearless farmer to save her.
The things I do for these animals . . .
Introvert Monday is a tradition I initiated to allow myself time to rest. Weekends are often very busy at the farm, and so Monday morning is when I plan ahead to sleep in. Typically, Monday is the day least likely for an intern or volunteer to be at the farm. I do my best to avoid making any commitments on a Monday, to allow myself a quiet day on the farm to do chores at my own pace. My desire for a quiet day routinely makes it the animals’ very favorite time to cause chaos.
On this particular Monday, I was relishing the slow pace of an autumn day with nothing on the schedule except farmwork. I enjoyed morning rounds, coffee & emails, yoga & prayer time, before starting the chores. I began my work of the day in poultry land, tending to the chickens, ducks, and turkeys. I decided to take a brief break from those tasks, and I headed over to check sheep & goat waters at the big barn. As I approached the barn, I heard a plaintive little peep that sounded like a newly hatched chick. I changed direction and began scanning for a lost baby, hoping my ears were deceiving me. No — there was indeed a tiny newly hatched chick running fearfully in front of the barn.
I scooped up this baby, and found a bucket in which to carry it. Standing inside the front of the barn, I listened carefully. Sure enough, from high up above in the old hay mow that is far too dangerous to use, I heard more tiny peeps. The little chick which I found had fallen out of a hidden nest way up above in the old mow. A rogue mama chicken had made the decision to hide a nest of eggs in a very precarious location, and their survival now depended on my capacity to rescue them.
I hunted down a step ladder, and carefully positioned it under two ancient hewn beams that looked solid. I climbed the ladder far enough to set the bucketed chick safely up above. Then, I gingerly clambered onto that very top step of the ladder which clearly reads “DO NOT STAND OR SIT”, and from there pulled myself onto the beams above to launch myself into the old hay mow. Picking up the bucket, I inched along distributing my weight on all fours. As I crawled, my ears identified the location of more little peeps. Sure enough, there was a mama hen sitting atop six more newly hatched chicks.
Good mamas are protective of their babies. This Mother Clucker had found a spot that was safe to sit on a nest of eggs, but had not thought ahead that her babies might fall out as soon as they hatched. Her protective nature kicked in as I began taking her babies from the nest. I had to hold her securely in one arm so she would not peck me, as I knelt in the dark trying to gather the tiny chicks. With seven chicks in the bucket, and mama under my arm, I next had to maneuver the descent. Pulling myself up onto the beams had not been the easiest endeavor, but lowering myself on to the top of the ladder while holding a belligerent mama hen and carrying a bucket of seven chicks was even harder. Thankfully, with much patience, I successfully navigated the descent.
I took mama & her seven babies to a warm, comfy crate where they could enjoy safety. Mama was delighted when I set her up with fresh water and delicious feed. Knowing that one baby had fallen out of the lofty nest, my instinct told me I needed to carefully check the barn for additional chicks. Sure enough, a search of the barn led me to five more cold & scared little ones. I gathered them up and returned them to mama. Newly hatched chicks need to be at warm temperatures of around 90 degrees. A chilly late October day was not the best time to hatch, so I reinforced their crate with quilts to insulate it. Mama Hen fluffed up her feathers so her little ones could burrow into the warmth of her body heat. She seemed very relieved to have her twelve babies all back with her, despite her initial anger with me at moving them to safety.
The chicks are now a week old, and are thriving. They are starting to grow little wing feathers, and have hearty appetites. Mama has nurtured them well, and kept them warm despite the cool nights. I am abundantly grateful that we all survived their rescue. I am hopeful the chickens will avoid hiding a nest in such a precarious spot in the future — but I sincerely doubt they will respect my admonishment. Moody Mother Cluckers, indeed!