Friday, April 17, 2009

Chicks gone wild

(is that the look of a city mouse or what?)

If it's chick entertainment you're looking for I have one word for you, earthworms. Yesterday after the kids came home from school I set them to the task of digging up worms in the garden so we could feed them to the chicks. They were on it with such excitement you'd think I told them we were going to Busch Gardens.

It was all out pandemonium at feeding time. I'm pretty sure they'd never seen a worm before but it took about 2 pecks and 3 seconds before feathers were flying, beaks were pecking with reckless abandon and they were racing around the bin I have them in. The squawking was at an all-time high as if each chick was saying, "It's MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE! gimmeegimmeegimmeegimmee!"

Worms were flying, getting chopped in half, chicks were all over top of each other and getting stuck behind feeders and such, each trying to flee from the other. At one point a worm landed on this one's back and she kept searching around for it as it dangled from her wing.

I must say they are rather easy animals to care for at this point. Their only requirements are food, water, a clean environment, warmth and safety from predators. That's it. They definitely don't want any more of me or the kids than it takes to fill those basic needs.

But of course I've been a tad neurotic about the whole thing, especially that first night. Kevin and I were sitting up watching t.v. after the kids went to bed and I heard him say, "Earth to Amy, where'd my wife go, what's gotten into you?"

"I'm paranoid that they're too cold, that they're going to freeze to death, that the light bulb is going to catch everything on fire and the whole tool shed is going to burn down (we don't have them in the coop yet, no electricity down there), or that the light bulb is going to burn out, and that my new ferns and peonies are going to die because it's going to freeze tonight. Does that answer your questions?" I replied.

I think he shook his head, muttered an "Oh great!" and then said something like "Why don't you just go check on them?"

"I think I will. And I'm bringing my plants inside while I'm at it."

But to myself I was just laughing at the clear difference in the way some women and men are wired. I know why women have babies and men do not. I see clearly why some men are stronger and can build great chicken coops (or houses) with ease and actually like it. I realized quickly why I'm the one responsible for keeping the chicks alive, when from the moment they came home and I sat quietly looking in their bin, watching their every movement, listening to their contented little peeps with a growing warmth in my chest that only comes from caring for another living thing. I'm glad I'm me and I'm glad he's him and I will happily keep it that way. The world needs both sides of the equation if you ask me.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Bet they were hysterical! Now, I have to ask, and I know you'll throw something my way, but why don't you have their bin in the kitchen? (that's what I did with the baby guineas- kept me from making a bzillion trips to check on them).