Four weeks ago, during a cold snap, one of my hens, Sweetie-the-not-so-sweet, hatched out 5 baby chicks and was moved into the designated broody coop. However, while she got the message to sit on eggs and protect anything under her from intruders, she missed the memo on caring for her babies and not attacking them as intruders. Two days later, she was still not caring for her now three little babies and literally flew the coop to rejoin the flock. Neither of my other broody hens would adopt the chicks, so into the barn went the heat lamp and baby chicks. A few days later, the power shorted and the water overflowed. It was three in the morning, when I had a nightmare that all my baby chicks were dead. I couldn't shake the dream and so I did what any chicken lover would do. I jumped out of bed and ran out to the barn to find my three little babies, soaked and shivering. It was the coldest night that month, I didn't have an extra heat lamp, and the power still wasn't working. With the mental capacity of a few hour's sleep, I took all three fuzzballs, placed them inside an old infinity scarf, and went back to bed with the chicks snuggled nice and warm. When I woke up, I couldn't quite remember all what had happened, but found that all of them were sleeping peacefully next to me. Later that day, with the heat lamp back on, and the water fount drip-free, the chicks went back into the brooder. All was back to normal the next day, except that the smallest one, a tiny thing I never thought would even survive hatching, began to flap and climb the wire walls of the brooder to jump on my shoulder and preen herself by my ear. Now, every time I go out there, Fennway chirrups, flaps up, and even tries to preen my hair from atop her new "adoptive" mama.
