Nom de Plume

Steve and I went to Del’s on Friday afternoon to get chicken wire. There were tubs and tubs of chicks–chicken, ducks, and turkey. I clutched at Steve’s arm, cooing, “Remember when ours were that cute?”

Because the fact is that baby chicks are cute for about three minutes. Then they become gawky pre-teen pooping machines. They eat, they drink, they poop. They eat their poop. They poop in their water. They drink their poopy water. Poop monsters, pure and simple.

I can’t wait to get them into the coop–which is actually not that far from being done. I know I keep promising, but pix coming soon …

Oh yes, and Anita, I never responded to your comment–Harry pretty much ignores them because he can’t see them now that I’ve put them in a super large carboard box. When I change the bedding, he sees them and barks his silly little head off.