Yesterday one of our chicks hatched. Gladys has taken to kicking the straw out from under her so we found our new little chick squashed beneath her, slimy and wet and pressed against the cold, hard plastic of the old lawnmower catcher. It looked barely alive so we decided to remove it, worried that she wouldn’t look after it as she waited for the other eggs to hatch.
A day inside under a lamp and it’s all fluffy, cheepy and peepy. Now we’ve just got to wait for some more of the eggs to hatch and we’ll have a go at slipping it back under our good mum at night.
“I’m grateful that the little chicky survived.”
(Confused? Look)
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