Gimpy chick is a little 5 week old blue cochin chick that was mercilessly attacked by my two welsummers, she grew a nice abcess/proud flesh knot on her head which a couple weeks later was again pecked until she bled to the point of death. I tried "gassing her" like so many on here have suggest when you need to cull a bird and are too chicken-poop to wring its neck or lop off its head. Some how, she managed to not only survive (she was literally motionless and too week to lift her body from blood loss, and then even weaker from the chamber of doom) but she's made such a strong come back that I think she's going to thrive.
She actually was really sour, always pecking and hated people, especially me... but now she's changed her mind. She even likes to climb up on my sons lap.
Gimpy Chick lives in a plastic tote under the kitchen window. Gimpy Chick FREAKS THE HECK OUT whenever she can see me and flails around like a little possessed thing until I let her out and she can busy herself with following my feet where ever they go. Gimpy Chick sits on my lap at the computer, and thinks my boobs are for roosting on when I watch tv in the evening. She's pretty certain that if she can get under me some how (if I stoop down to get something, or sit on my haunches while doing something) that I will broodily keep her warm and comfy like any good momma hen.
Gimpy is certain its her personal responsibility to "preen" my fingers, clothing, hair and jaw line. She also thinks that anything I snack on is her's too. And she has designated herself as my personal "kitchen floor vacuum".
Gimpy Chick is developing an identity crisis.
She actually was really sour, always pecking and hated people, especially me... but now she's changed her mind. She even likes to climb up on my sons lap.
Gimpy Chick lives in a plastic tote under the kitchen window. Gimpy Chick FREAKS THE HECK OUT whenever she can see me and flails around like a little possessed thing until I let her out and she can busy herself with following my feet where ever they go. Gimpy Chick sits on my lap at the computer, and thinks my boobs are for roosting on when I watch tv in the evening. She's pretty certain that if she can get under me some how (if I stoop down to get something, or sit on my haunches while doing something) that I will broodily keep her warm and comfy like any good momma hen.
Gimpy is certain its her personal responsibility to "preen" my fingers, clothing, hair and jaw line. She also thinks that anything I snack on is her's too. And she has designated herself as my personal "kitchen floor vacuum".
Gimpy Chick is developing an identity crisis.
