Yesterday I really thought I had stepped in the proverbial pile of poop. It was the day I moved my 8 little 2 week old chicks to the coop. It was a bittersweet move as these were truly MY babies. Several times during the day and always at bedtime I let the little boogers out of their pen (in my
carpeted spare bedroom). They would fly and run around stretching their wings and legs, but cleaning up after them was getting a bit harder, not to mention they needed that much room all the time now.
I already had their area set up under the poop board, I just had to move them and their heat plate. The move went smoothly and, of course, I piled in there with them. I mean, after all, I am their momma. Trust me, we were definitely bonded. Once in their new digs all they wanted to do was dust bathe in that deep sand. Oh my word, sand was flying everywhere. See the dust cloud in the first picture?
I guess they had been in there about 5 minutes when the broody heard them. She came rushing in the coop, leaving her own 3 chicks outside in the run. She was very unsettled, pacing back and forth and tidbitting for the chicks. She did this several times over the course of about 10 minutes. I grew curious as to what she would do with them so I opened the fencing and called her in there with us (me and the chicks.)
I was amazed! It was clearly evident she wanted to mother these chicks. They are only one week younger than her three and not much different in size. She was doing her best to pick up and drop things for them to eat, and even though the chicks had never been around a momma hen, there was no mistaking them instinctively going for the goods.
Now for my huge, huge pile of poop scare. As she was dropping things for them, some of the chicks began attacking her comb and wattles. These little heathens I had raised were going ape s#!t over those floppy red things. I stopped them and as soon as she would drop her head, here they’d go again. <looks of horror> They had never seen such things as a red comb and wattle before. All I could think of was getting her out of there before those wild, human-raised chicks made her turn away from her own three ‘angels.’ Really, I thought I had “gone and done it” for sure this time!
After letting her out it didn’t take her long to come back...with all three of her little ones in tow. Do you think she wanted to or would have mixed them all?
While in the coop, it didn’t take her long to begin looking upwards, like she wanted to now take her chicks up to the nesting box roosts. She had all three of them up there at one point.
Those sweet little things looking up to their momma.
I plan on leaving the new chicks behind the netting for a week and then opening up the bottom part so only they can come and go. I have a feeling it won’t be a long transition period once those little ones get out and mix with the other three that “have been there, done that, and pooped on that!”
It is very likely, I guess, that I could have a 100% hatch rate of cockerels.
Man oh man, what are the odds and what a great learning experience I have before me! I mean, I haven’t had the best of luck raising a “perfect” male! Oh, wait, wth did I just say?
[so totally sarcastic]
and then they would get up and I’d see their dang feet again. 
All that cuteness disappeared as those enormously ugly big old feet were revealed.
