It seems Sweet Pea would have been more appropriately named Sour Puss. Sweet she is not. She wants nothing at all to do with her babies. Once they hatch she looks at me as if she’s thinking, “Can you believe the nerve of these babies? Can’t they see I’m busy sitting on eggs.”
Clueless. Completely clueless.
I’m afraid the first little chick to hatch didn’t make it. But it’s really for the best as its eye was injured. Life is not easy for a one-eyed chicken. Old Jack can attest to that. But there are still seven other little peepers that are healthy and happy in the brooder.
All in all, this will be a good thing. The last small batch of chicks with Precious are as wild as a night on Daytona Beach. I couldn’t even get a picture of them, let alone touch them. I’ll never be able to catch them. But this batch-this batch I’ll have eating out of my hand…