Ah, the good life.

Funny you should ask if Oillie thinks they're chicken nuggets, Phil...
We've had quite a rocky couple of weeks here at the chicken house. First, on Saturday my friend Debbie came over and we took the chicks out and played with them and got them used to being handled. I totally bonded to them and starting giving them names, and was so excited. Then, I got home last Saturday night and found that my little Barred Rock chick was looking terrible. She was laying on her side, looking damp and breathing heavily. I picked her up and she looked like she was not going to make it. Now, before I go on I need to back up and tell you that there is a forum called Backyard Chickens. People post ALL KINDS of things about their chickens and can answer any question a backyard chicken owner may have. I had been reading it and there is a whole section on chicken emergencies. As I stood by the cage holding the chick and deciding where I ould put her while I went to look up what to do, she died in my hand. It was so much sadder than I was expecting... I took her outside and it was late so I didn't do a great job urying her, but I thought it would do until I could get out there and dig a better hole.
The next morning I went to the feed shop and got a replacement. I was feeling kind of rattled, but I was ok. That evening, I let Ollie out and when he ccame back in he had something he was playing with. It didn't take me too long to realize that he had dug up the baby chick. I fucking lost it. I screamed, freaked out and finally convinced him to "leave it". I put him on the leash and went to get my crazy neigbor lady to see if she could help me, and she wasn't home. So, I pulled myself together, tied Ollie up outside and went back in. I took the sweet baby chick and reburied her. The worst part was, I was so mad at Ollie and could't quite figure out why. I mean, she was already dead, and he's a dog, and I eat chicken too, etc. But I was still pissed. It took me until the next day to really get over it.

Anyway: after a few days it appeared that the new Barred Rock chick was not thriving. She was smaller than the others, wasn't really trying to fly, and just general seemed kind of runty. because of that I went and got ANOTHER chick on Thursday, this time a Black Australorp. Of course, because of the way things go, they both seem to be thriving now.

The chickens have all been named and have very distinct personalities. Pictures, names, and descriptions to follow, hopefully tomorrow.