Perching Peeps

Ginger (the reddish color is due to the heat lamp)

According to the book I purchased (Keep Chickens! by Barbara Kilarski) for guidance in raising my backyard chickens, chicks need to begin learning to perch at about three weeks of age. Perching is actually an instinctive part of chicken behavior, but I'm guessing that giving them the opportunity to practice is important for these little ones raised in a box rather than a barn. Yesterday, as Miss Peeps launched herself onto the side of her container and proudly gripped the box rim and peeped at me, I decided it was time to install a perch inside the brooder box. My girls are only a little past two weeks old, but apparently, like my first two children, they are gifted :).

Gary was set to work drilling holes into some small blocks of wood in order to suspend a wooden dowel across the width of the brooder. We got it in and after some tinkering decided to tape the blocks securely to the sides of the container so that it wouldn't fall and crush a chick by accident. That done, we sat back and waited expectantly for the little ones to leap on the dowel and perch. Well, that didn't happen.

In actuality, they flocked to a corner of their bin, huddled together, and peeped and cheeped with displeasure at this new construction. It's a good thing that my reading also prepared me for this. As instructed on page 81of the book, I lifted Ginger, my most docile chick, and held her above the perch, guiding her feet. She kind of got it, but when I let go of her she quickly lost her balance and dropped to the floor of the brooder. I repeated the process with Miss Peeps and Ziggy having pretty much the same results. Okay, playtime was over; I let them rest in peace.

During my next trip downstairs, I saw little progress. Ziggy had  learned to squeeze under the bar as she is the smallest. Miss Peeps and Ginger just  hopped over it, occasionally setting a claw down briefly on the  perch, but not wanting to remain anywhere near it.

Third time being the charm, by late afternoon when I once again visited my flock Miss Peeps gleefully flapped her way onto the perch and stayed put for two minutes or so. Show off! During that same visit, Ginger also thrilled me by hopping onto the dowel and settling gracefully in perch mode. Ziggy continued to play Limbo and squeeze under the bar.

This morning, only one day later, all  three of the girls are consistently able to sit on the perch, sometimes, two at a time. I told you they were gifted!

Overall, I can't believe how fast they are growing. They have gone from fuzzy little creatures to actual birds with wings and tail feathers. They are quite proud of their appendages and love to flap them as they hop about, trying, I assume, to fly. Thankfully, when they gain full body weight, flight will not be an option. At least that's what the book says! Let's hope that's true. Here's a little video of the peeps in action. The first one to perch is Miss Peeps. You can distinguish her by the dot on top of her head. The second percher is Ginger. Ziggy wasn't up to showing off.

Peeps in Motion

Just a little bit of the chicks in action. As their surrogate mom, you can see I've got them eating right out of my hand :) They are 10 days old now. Look how they've changed. Especially the wings, check out those wings. (And stop thinking about Buffalo and wings in the same sentence!)

Flying Peeps

Observing the chicks over the past six days, I thought it was going to be Ginger who would give me problems with attempting flight. She spends a good deal  of her time with her neck stretched to its fullest, eyes raised toward the ceiling. I was certain that she was going to figure out a way to leap over the side of the brooder. However, yesterday, when I was cleaning house, it was little Miss Peeps who launched herself over the side of the little box I place the chicks in while I change the bedding in the brooder. I managed to catch her before she went over the edge completely. I'm not sure who was more surprised...me or the chick! A few minutes later when I had the three of them safely back into their home, I watched as.... no kidding...Miss Peeps literally hunkered down and then leaped with all her little strength, trying to lift herself into the stratosphere. As adorable as the action was, it makes me more than a little nervous about this chick's intentions. I will certainly have to keep an eye her.

Overall the girls seem to be doing well. I raised the heat lamp today to begin to lower the heat. I read that the temperature should be reduced by 5 degrees each week to get the chicks ready to adjust to living outdoors. We did get the coop assembled yesterday, and will move it out to the back yard next weekend. Once there we need to put the roof on and then stake out the area that will be their run when we are outside with them. Due to the number of predators in this area, I will always need to make sure they are locked up tight every night. Here's what our coop looks like.

What's in a name?

From left to right: Ginger, Ziggy, and Miss Peeps

When I started telling people that I was going to get into the business of raising chickens, I was frequently asked: "Are you going to name them?" The answer is, of course, YES! After all, they are now members of our family so they do need names. It took the better part of yesterday before the chicks were officially "christened." I spent a lot of time watching them and listening to them and holding them, so I could get to know them. As I mentioned yesterday, they do have very distinct personalities. The first to get a name was Miss Peeps. She is the bravest, most social, and noisiest of the group. Everytime I approached the brooder, she was the first to run to greet me, peeping loudly. Next came Ziggy. If you look closely at the picture, you can see the chipmunk-like stripes that run down her back. Ziggy is the smallest of the three, and the silliest. Finally, there's Ginger. Like the spice, she is a beautiful shade of orange-brown. Ginger is the largest, yet the most shy of the girls. She most often stands apart from her new sisters; however, during a couple of my visits she came to check me out, quickly pushing aside her smaller siblings, so she may show a more aggressive personality as she becomes acclimated. All in alll, so far so good. The peeps are eating, drinking, sleeping, and pooing - oh, my, are they pooing. I have to keep reminding myself about the value of the poo for the garden, as I continually try to keep the brooder tidy!

They're Here!

All right Jaime Lynn, this is for you!

 

At 3:30 p.m. on Tuesday, April 5th, Regina (backyard chicken co-conspirator) and I were at Country Max to accept the delivery of six two-day old Rhode Island Reds. Although we tried, we had no success in convincing the store clerk to sell us two additional chicks. Who knew there were actual rules about the minimum number of chicks one could purchase at a time?  The store clerk explained to us that if we had ordered eight, he could sell us eight; but because the original order was for six, he could only sell us 6 or 12; but not eight. Oh, right, that really cleared things up. :{  So, as much as I wanted a couple of barred Plymouth Rocks, I will need to be happy with my three RIRs. I'm thinking if these girls work out, we'll see about some Rocks next spring.

It was a pretty chilly and grey day here in Western NY and I was concerned about keeping the sweet little puff balls warm on the ride from the store to home. I blasted the heat in my dear old Eda, but I was pretty certain the chicks were not getting the 90 degrees they crave. Thankfully, they survived the 10-minute trip from the store to home and when I got home, Gary (husband) had the heat lamp going in the brooder, so I slipped them quickly inside.

For a brooder, I chose a design found on the Internet (thank you PoultryHelp.com). This particular idea of using a large clear plastic tub (e.g. Rubbermaid or Sterlite) was appealing to me because of the snap tight lid and solid sides. Since the babes will be living in the basement until they are big enough and feathered enough to move outdoors, I needed to ensure both their warmth (a 180 year old basement is damp and drafty) and their safety (Zoee, our cat, loves anything with tails or feathers!) This design addressed both of my concerns.

Once the girls were safe in their new home, I lifted each one in turn and gently dipped her beak into the water bowl. I read in several publications that this was important to help them learn where to drink. By evening's end, all three had drunk and eaten to my satisfaction. Watching them will become a delightful past time I'm sure, as already I can see they each have very distinct personalities.