Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Surprise, Surprise

You might remember a while back when I told you how Farmer H was trying to hatch some baby chicks. One of the black hens was sitting on a nest constantly, and fighting with any other hens who came near her. Of course, when she had to get up to eat or drink, they laid their eggs in her nest. Anyhoo...The Pony found the nest full of broken eggs about three days before they should have hatched, and he was heartbroken. Farmer H threw all those eggs away, even the two out of eight that were not broken. He saved several eggs from different chickens, and when he had five, he put them under the hen that was so bent on sitting on them 24/7.

Last week, The Pony ran to check on his chickens as soon as we got home. Farmer H had told him the night before that it had been long enough, and he was going to throw out the five eggs, because none of them had hatched. The Pony went out to check for new eggs. Farmer H got home and joined him. The #1 son had been called out to help Farmer H with some project. None of them returned to the house. I was wondering when I was going to have to start cooking, and what they were up to. Just then, Farmer H himself came in the front door. "We have a baby chick." WTF? How could The Pony keep such exciting news to himself?

I went out to see for myself, and this is what I saw, though it was teeny tiny then, having just been hatched. It was the cutest thing, pale yellow, with black spots on its head and wings. Farmer H thinks it came from one of the banty eggs, a white hen with some black on its head and tail feathers. Miss Prissy, as I call that broody black hen, was beside herself with joy. She had her little Egghead Jr., even if he wasn't her own blood. She hovered over that baby chick, even as he climbed through the fence Farmer H was sure would contain baby chicks. #1 crouched there to shove him back in when he got out. Farmer H put them inside one of his ramshackle wooden contraptions overnight, and left them there until he could fix the pen. Thank the Gummi Mary, Chicky is still alive and kickin'. These pictures are from tonight. I'm hoping Chicky gets a chance to grow up.








Here's Chicky, with his hole-
in-the-wall exit blocked.














Miss Prissy and Chicky,
her adopted baby.












Only the finest in playground
equipment for Hillbilly Chicky.









The Pony is a proud papa of one baby chick. The cutest part could not be captured on film. That was the first evening of Chicky's hatching, when Miss Prissy herded him under her wing, and he poked his spotted head out the back, near her feathered butt. Let's hope Chicky does not become a tasty dog treat.

7 comments:

Mommy Needs a Xanax said...

Awwwwwww!! I love baby chicks!!!

Chickadee said...

That little chicky is beautiful. I wouldn't be surprised if Pony tried to herd that chick into the house for its own protection. ;)

Hillbilly Mom said...

Miss Ann,
Thank the Gummi Mary you didn't end that comment with, "And they're so tasty." You know, like with the sea kittens.

Chick,
It takes a chick to recognize the beauty that is little Chicky. The Pony was a bit anxious about Chicky's safety for the first few days. He checked on him a lot.

Stewed Hamm said...

Nah HM, they don't get tasty enough until they're old enough to pluck, gut, and barbecue.
Chicky's still got a few more days under the sun until he's under the broiler.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Stewwereyoudroolingasyoutypedthat,
I would prefer to eat Chicky myself, rather than have those fleabags kill him and toss him around like a stuffed red devil.

Mommy Needs a Xanax said...

Have you ever seen a PBS show called Between the Lions? They have a little animated skit on each show called Fun With Chicken Jane. Scot and Dot have a chicken named Chicken Jane, and every week Chicken Jane suffers some injury because of Scot and Dot's stupidity. The skit ends with Chicken Jane covered in bandages, and a wing in a sling. It's a hoot, I tell ya.

Here is a perfect example.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92sBstV4w7M

I say all that to tell you that you should name it Chicken Jane.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Miss Ann,
I have not seen that show, but Chicky could indeed be a Chicken Jane. I'm not one for sexing chickens, so he/she will just have to grow some spurs or not and crow or not so we can choose an anatomically correct name for him/her.