One of my first-ever chicks was killed by a predator last night. Two days before, I lost two chicks in hatching. I love the chicks I have left, and all I do now is worry about what can go wrong next. I check the babies for pasty butt twice a day. I fret over their food and water intake. I have my remaining six-week-old BR in the house with me, because no pen is safe enough. This was supposed to be fun.