![]() ![]() After several weeks they graduated to a pen (and the rafters, once they figured out how to roost) in our garage. We stuck them in our living room in a big plastic tub with a heating lamp, some bedding, chick food, and water. Several weeks after placing our order, seventeen chicks and three ducks arrived in a peeping box at our Post Office. A year ago we were perusing chicken catalogs and researching different breeds, trying to find birds that were sweet, not too broody, cold-weather hardy, laid the right color of eggs, and were, of course, pretty. ![]() A year ago, I had no earthly idea that chickens and ducks were delightful creatures. You may very well think I am a little on the crazy side, but I take great delight in my chickens and ducks. The word that popped into my head was delight. There was something undeniably amusing about watching a guy in cowboy boots gingerly maneuvering his way around my curious chickens and ducks. I peeked out my back door and couldn’t help but smile. This guy, our neighbor, deals with his big horses and cows every day, but he seemed a tiny bit overwhelmed as he was surrounded by our birds-two of whom, the ducks, were loudly scolding him for arriving in our backyard without food. Our little poultry flock is about as domesticated as a flock of poultry can be without taking over our home (and trust me-they try-whenever our door is open they love sneaking into the kitchen and snatching crumbs up off the floor). As he walked into our yard, he was greeted by our brood of twenty-five hens, one rooster, two drakes, and two ducks. Yesterday afternoon our neighbor came over to nudge one of his calves from our yard back into his pasture. ![]()
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