You can hear them before you see them.
Walk up to the coop, the Cheeky Chick Inn, and there it is: peep, peep, peep. Tiny, urgent and impossibly sweet.
The Inn is my own build. It has a little arched window, and every so often a chick appears in it, looking out. (The ducks have had terrible aim, so it is still relatively clean.)
Mum is Grandma Francis, our original hen, and she has been promoted. She is sitting on her baby with the expression of someone who has Seen Things and will not be moved. And if you look closely, right at the bottom, there is a small yellow face peeking out from under her.
One morning there was room service. Fresh grain, a few tomatoes, banana and some greens, delivered to the nest for mum and baby. Nobody said thank you, but nobody sent it back either.
The little one hatched on 22 October, and he already has opinions.
Sauvignon the duck was sitting on a couple more eggs, so the Inn may soon need more rooms.
Now, the chick has a bow tie. A little dark patch at the neck, very smart, very ready for brunch. I have a feeling he might turn out to be a rooster. After Venus (who arrived as a hen and kept the name), I have learned not to bet against it. We will see. If she turns out to be a girl, she will be Eggscalibur. If he is a rooster, he will be Schnitzel. I am biased, so tell me what you think in the comments.
More Fowl Kids antics soon. If you'd like to keep them in the family, subscribe for letters about the farm's growth, or feed a Fowl Kid over at Ko-fi.
- Lara
