Make the boy a list...and make him kiss the chickens. You know you want to! :lau
Well, 23 adults, integrated into the flock, you're okay. But you'll probably have at least 3 dopey birds getting lost behind the buckets or something. It makes for an insanely long instruction list for the petsitter when you have to tell them this stuff! It'll be fine in a few months, I'm sure.

My 20 year old son worried about his chicken-sitting duties, "Mom? Do I have to kiss each bird goodnight, like you do? And I don't know the right order that they like to sleep in -- what if they are in the wrong spot on the roost? Do I have to move them?"
 
My senior citizen neighbors watch mine. They worry about the chickens more than i do. Lady called me last week to tell me Susan was missing feathers...and i had to explain molting to a seventy year old. ;)
I have a friend who has had chickens and will eventually get more. She is good to pop over and check on them. I have another friend who has no clue about chickens, but will stop by to see if they are alive.
 
Make the boy a list...and make him kiss the chickens. You know you want to! :lau

He would do it -- he's pretty sweet. But I got the chickens when he left for college, so he didn't grow up with them, and is a little nervous. Plus, he heard the horror stories when I still had my a-hole rooster, and he's seen the scar down my nose. He has a healthy respect for those beaks!
 
Omg! You got roostered in the face? That's awful!
He would do it -- he's pretty sweet. But I got the chickens when he left for college, so he didn't grow up with them, and is a little nervous. Plus, he heard the horror stories when I still had my a-hole rooster, and he's seen the scar down my nose. He has a healthy respect for those beaks!
 
Omg! You got roostered in the face? That's awful!

He was my little darling, and absolute favorite, then the hormones hit at 5 months.

He literally carved what looked like male genitalia (all parts of it) or the number 7, two inches down my nose. The neighbors thought I'd was being murdered, I was sobbing so hard because I knew it was *over* between us!

Thank god it happened the week *after* my mom's HUGE, fancy 90th birthday party (we're talking, professional photographers, fancy dress, hundred guests).

I stayed out of sight for a week, til the nose scab shaped like a you-know-what dropped off!
 

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