Chicken Wrangling

Because my chicken run was wide open and available for a fox to come on in and have a chicken smorgasbord, I moved my chickens to Camp Ann's while I was away in Montana. They had a nice secure run there, playing, scratching and pecking, doing crafts in the day, singing around the campfire at night. Upon returning home, we (Forrest, Kim and I) finished putting up the chicken wire around the run, brought in fresh hay and water, making the coop cozy and inviting and hopefully fox proof.


It was then time to get on over to Ann's to wrangle those chickens into boxes and bring 'em on home. We donned our chicken wrangling gear, hopped into our sportsvagen and off we went. Those chickens had grown a third more in just 10 days and were much quicker. When I brought them over I had gotten all 12 chickens into one box all by myself. The three of us had a hard time getting them into the box and keeping them in. As soon as we'd open the box to put a chicken in, the previous chicken would hop out. One can't be 'chicken' when grabbing a chicken, just lunge and hang on tight. We finally managed to get the 11 chicks into the box but Flopsy would not fit so Forrest held her in his lap for the short ride home. He thought she would like to feel the breeze in her comb so he gently held her out the window. And she DID like it!


At first though Forrest was worried that Flopsy would poop on his beige pants, but she was a good girl and they both got comfortable.


After introducing them to their new/old coop and run, they all settled in nicely and were thrilled to see all the greens to eat.


When I went to check on them the first night, all the chicks tried to get on the roost that they had fit on 2 weeks previously. Since they had grown so much, they had to squish. The white chick had graciously spread her wings over the two beside her, taking them 'under her wing'.




Her name is now Angel.


Angel was tired of the flash going off, disturbing her sleep, so enough for now and good night. Sleep tight.