chicks at six weeks

I had to all stop on my plans for today when halfway through my cup of coffee world war three erupted on the back porch. We moved the chicks out there about a week ago when the weather warmed up enough. But they were still in the brooder box which was quickly becoming a huge problem since they’re at least 8 times as big as they were when we first put them in. And if there’s one ugly truth I’ve learned about chickens it’s that they become ferocious when confined to a small space. And if you want to know what angry baby birds sound like… well, it’s a lot like angry children but with double the eye pecking.

Text to Caleb: The chicks are trying to kill each other.

Text from Caleb: Are you saying that with seriousness?

Text to Caleb: Sort of!

The kids even came out of their bedroom and stared out the backdoor at the (albeit small) feathers flying around the porch. I ditched my coffee and searched the garage for the simplest and fastest solution I could come up with.

Garage storage rack turned chicken pen. They’ll go back in the brooder at night, but spend days in the yard from now on. Bloodshed avoided.

These two have names. The black one is Emu because of her long neck and bald spot. The fluffy one is Lady Grantham. If you watch Downton Abbey, I’d like you to know how appropriately the name fits.

Lady Grantham from Downton Abbey.

Still working on a name for this one. Mary Poopins, maybe?