Chicks in a Bowl

I marvel at how a bird who was raised completely artificially can know instinctively how to be mother. Monica (Mama hen now has a name!), was hatched in incubator, brooded under artificial lights, and never a grown up hen teach her how to forage for food, or save little bits for her. She never had anyone to protect her from danger. She didn't learn how to be a mother from the good example of another bird. She is such a joy to watch with her little chicks, because she just knows what to do. If only being a human parent was came so easily!

Breakfast in a bowl. The babies are enthusiastic eaters. The only problem is, they sit in the food as they eat. And they knock over the water bowl at least 10 times a day. I have to get something else figured out for water.

All five eggs hatched, even the egg that I could never quite tell what was going on in it. That one hatched yesterday afternoon after the rest were done. I could tell right away that something was wrong though. She was so little, half the size of her siblings, her yolk sack hadn't been completely absorbed, and there appeared to be something wrong with legs, she couldn't stand up like the others did. I knew she wasn't going to live very long, and she didn't, she died about 6 hours after she was born. I buried her in the garden by the raspberry patch.

Monica never left the nest once the eggs started to hatch, until after the last little one was born. She also didn't abandon the little one until after she died. (I have heard that many hens will walk away from the weak chick.) I let the chicks out to run around the kitchen this morning for a little while while I was cleaning. As soon as I picked up the broom to sweep up some of the mess, Monica got all excited and attacked the broom. I'm sure she perceived it as a threat to her little ones. I decided to put off sweeping until they were back in the cage. I love how when I give her treats such as cheese or hamburger patties, she doesn't gobble them up herself like she did before she was a mother. Instead she breaks the food into tiny pieces with her beak and scatters on the ground for the chicks.
I also love how she pushes the chicks around with her beak, getting them all tucked under her wings and clucking as she does so. And I love how, when the little ones get startled or frightened, they dive head first into her soft sea of breast feathers, with just their little behinds sticking out.
Looking awfully cute among the basil and tomatoes.

I let them outside for about half an hour this afternoon, and she scratched up food for them as they toddled around after her, tripping and tumbling over every little obstacle. The chicks are so adorably cute I could sit and watch them for hours. I guess I am easily entertained. Chicks by themselves are very entertaining, chicks with a Mama hen are ten times more entertaining.

Learning the ropes of digging for worms.