This morning my dad woke me up and told me one of the little bantam chicks was dead. I came out to find the lamp that was to keep them warm had fallen and trapped the poor little guy underneath. I feel so bad... Just the night before I had them out running around and all was fine. My dad said it was a little black one which was my favorite of all of them, but thankfully it wasn't the black wyandotte. It was my only little silver laced wyandotte that I had hatch just a little more than a week before all this. I'm heartbroken that it was my fault for not checking the lamp before I went to bed...I had adopted the only little chick my school hatched 2 days before. I guess 7 chicks wasn't a lucky number for me. It's all my fault.
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