The Little Chickens

Dennis and Annie visited the little chickens last evening. The twelve little chickens, all pullets, are nine weeks old. In order to allow them to go outside without being attacked by the old hens, Dennis and Grant built a fence to divide the chicken yard and rigged up a temporary fence around the main door, giving access to the the little chickens' side of the yard. At first the little chickens were afraid to venture out more than a couple of feet, but now they roam freely, scratching for worms, dusting and chatting.

Annie finds chickens fascinating and is very helpful in rounding them up when they fly the coop.


The little chickens follow Dennis around like goslings after a goose. He says this is because he talks to them a lot. I suspect it is also because he provides their food and water.

The Barred Rock hen in the foreground is one of the old hens from last year's flock. She is the smallest of the seven remaining hens and at the bottom of their pecking order. Somehow she has been getting into the little chickens' side of the yard and seems to prefer their company. She mingles quite peaceably with the little ones, unlike one of her sisters, who snatched an opportunity to peck a little chicken on the head.

Incidentally, the little chickens are red sex-link, which is a cross between a red chicken and a white chicken. They are supposed to be great egg producers.

Postscript: Now the little chickens number eleven. A careless person (me) didn't securely fasten the gate. Six escaped but only five were retrieved.

Post-postscript: When Dennis closed the chickens in for the night, all twelve little chickens were on their roost. Even though we both counted chickens several times earlier, we somehow miscounted. We're both relieved. I had spent the last hour saying, "Mea culpa." When creatures are in our care we grieve when one comes to a bad end. Now we are rejoicing.