Several weeks ago we had a hen that went broody. For all you non-chicken types, that means she started sitting on her eggs in hopes of having herself some babies. Despite the fact that we don’t have a rooster, I was feeling guilty for stealing her eggs. So I decided to do chicken surrogacy. We got some fertilized eggs from a friend, and placed them under said broody hen.
Not a single chick.
My sweet friend felt bad about me not getting any babies so she let her hen hatch us some.
She felt bad about taking the baby chicks from their mommy.
She should, because they are looking for her.
When we introduced our hens to the chicks, in hopes that one would adopt them as her own, they were not the least bit interested. The poor baby chicks, however, followed them around just begging for them to take them in.
Clearly, hens are not into adoption whatsoever.
However, cats are.
I guess we are not only a trans-racial family, but apparently a trans-species family as well.
The cat apparently enjoys laying with the chickies, keeping them warm.
What possessed my children to introduce the bird eating cats to the sweet baby chickies is beyond me.
We also have another problem.
They think our freckles and moles are bugs, and are constantly trying to eat them.
They’re lucky they’re so cute, otherwise I might eat them.
Except for the one.
I can’t eat that one.
Grace named it Yellow Snow.
As she said, everyone knows you shouldn’t eat yellow snow.