Getting to Know My Girls

 When my girls are happy, their Mama is happy too! On March 15th they arrived in a small square box that could fit in the palm of my hand.  They were just two days old and arrived via Postal Service.  That particular morning was frigid.  Once home the fluffy puffs were scooped up quickly and set beneath the warmth of the heat lamp where they huddled together in a mass of pale yellow.  As the days wore on through the cold and remaining darkness that can come in March, the chicks grew into long legged creatures. True wing feathers appeared, then tiny little tail feathers began to shape them into fowl.

Each day, several times a day I would go in the cellar where they resided.  Somedays, I just sat quietly and watched, while other days with hands on knees, I bent forward and in the sickly sweet voice I use when conversing with all my furry and feathered family, "How are my girlies? How's it going? What's new?" In time, they came closer and closer to my leaning in face and calmly cocked their head in my direction.  It was only when we tried to reach in to pick them up that they would scurry, flutter and squawk.  The chicken wire grill was just enough barrier to create a sense of security.

Now, my girls are out in their new coop.  As I stand on my tip-toes and peer through the slats in the gate, they are bugging, clucking and strutting around their expansive yard.  However slowly I enter, they scatter helter-skelter seeking the farthest corner to hide.  The chickens scramble upon each other tucking their beaks beneath their sisters' feathery sides or tails. If they cannot see me, I suspect that they can believe that I am no longer present. My five foot-two frame is just too much human stature, I needed to have another plan.  This afternoon I bought some freeze dried meal worms.  The product draw was that the hens could eat the worms out of an open hand.  I found a patch of greening grass minus the bird poop and just sat and watched.  Determined that I would have my sweet girls eating out of my hand shortly, made me impatient.  I threw some worms on the ground.  They were enticed out of the confines of the coop.  I held my hand out, but no one had been quite so brave.  It was only on a second visit out to the coop within the next hour that a bird or two approached and swiftly, but gently pecked and devoured the worm in one motion from my open hand.  These are my girls and in time, they will know their Mama well.