A Chicken Friend

 

I have a new friend.  A chicken friend.  I'm friendly with all the chickens, but MJ and I are developing an extra friendly relationship.  Isn't she cute?  She's like a scruffy looking penguin, only stupid.

MJ is the heritage breed chick that was raised with the dodos AKA meat chicks.  She isn't afraid to get close to me, and thinks biting my fingers is what turns them into food.  She isn't trapped in the coop with the dodos anymore, and each night I have to find her, pick her up, and carry her to the mobile coop with the layer flock.  I was worried she wasn't getting enough to eat, so I carried her to the barn and gave her her very own pile of food.  We are now best friends.  

I haven't had a chicken friend that would let me pick her up without protest since Mrs. Hall, my first chicken.  The dodos don't run away from me either, but they don't run.  MJ must of have learned her tame ways from her weeks with the dodos.  That's about all she learned though.  She seems confused by everything now that she's out in the world.  She doesn't mind to share her meal with Wendigo. 

Only my youngest hens are laying eggs now.  The eggs freeze and crack if I don't find them fast.

I got home from work early enough yesterday that I could do my chores in the sunlight.  When the sun starts to set, the cold is so intense!  My cheeks burn and my breath makes frost on my high collar.  I can watch the water I put out for the birds freeze.  I go back outside at least once after dark to make sure everyone is tucked in safely.  The goats sleep in a pile.  I reach through the fence to touch their ears, checking for warmth.  Wendigo sleeps on an old down sleeping bag in the barn, nestled next to a wall of hay.  I touch her ears and toes while she sleeps to make sure she isn't cold.  She feels warm.  

The chickens and guineas sleep side by side on their perch.  We've stapled a tarp over the coop walls to block the breeze.  I haven't noticed any frost bitten combs or wattles. 

At night the donkeys stand against the wall, out of the wind.  Their tails are tucked tightly against their backsides, and they look cold.  They don't appreciate my warm hugs. My horse owning friend said to feed them lots of hay.  He said that's how they stay warm, by eating.