Thursday, March 24, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
We wanted to give the gals more room to run around in their coop, and switch their outside roost to a place that they could get to easier. So we moved their ramp and roost, and the poor chickies were very confused.
Here's Chloe on the new roost. She was the first one to notice the change (a good 20 minutes later). She walked around the new roost a couple of times, looking at it and gauging the distance. Finally she took a leap.
Mirabelle was a bit slower. Chloe was inside the coop, chirping away, and Mirabelle was trying to figure out how to get to her. Mirabelle circled the roost and ramp suspiciously a bunch of times. Lots of chirping back and forth. Finally Mirabelle took the leap to the new roost, and got inside the coop to Chloe.
Once inside the coop, the girls spent time eating pine chips. Even though they have a container full of food, and tons of weeds in their coop. This worried me at first, but I googled it and found out not to worry, the pine chips are non-toxic to them. Just not nutritious. Oh well.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Last weekend was a big one for the chicks. We went away to Napa for the weekend to drink wine and ride a tandem bike, and the chicks were left alone for the first time.
They had plenty of food and water. We have big containers that we fill up, and they will eat and drink as needed. We timed their heat lamp to go on before it got dark, which is their cue to head into their coop for the night. Now that they are bigger and fatter, their bodies have adjusted to the weather and they would actually be fine without the heat. But like I've said before, we spoil them...
The day we left, when I checked on them I could see their latest project---hole digging. Big holes. They had dug around the stump that their water was on top of, so that the water container had tilted and almost had spilled out. Bad chicks!
A quick remedy of filling the holes with dirt and throwing a bunch of weeds in the cage to keep them busy, and we were off for the weekend.
When we returned home Sunday afternoon, all was well. Happy chicks, looking to us for more treats.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Just found this old picture of Mirabelle. She had been sitting on my hand, and took flight, a very short distance to the windshield wiper of the car, which she used as a roost. And of course, she left a treat on the car.
Poor baby, I think she was just scared!
Monday, March 7, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
The chicks were up to their usual shenanigans today. I brought them out some grapes and they went bonkers. Mirabelle can gulp them down whole, but Chloe has trouble picking them up and swallowing them, they are too big for her. She'll eventually get a hold of one and take it into the corner, and Mirabelle will chase after her and try to get it. Even though I have a whole plate full of grapes, right in front of them.
Today Mirabelle was pushing Chloe out of the way, so I was trying to put the grapes right in front of Chloe so she would get some. Mirabelle tried to jump over Chloe and ended up knocking over the whole plate of grapes. A crash, loud squawking, feathers flying ensued. They freaked themselves out, and then were all cautious about approaching me and the picked-up grapes, as if I was the one that caused all the commotion.
Here they are approaching the grapes for Round 2.
And at the feeder.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
The girls love clover, and some other weeds that grow in our yard. They also go completely bonkers for grapes. They equate us with tasty treats, and will come running over to us whenever we go outside.
Mirabelle is turning into quite the butterball. They seem to be growing fatter, not taller anymore. They also shed a lot of feathers. Their wings are still clipped, but we found one of their clipped feathers that had fallen out. We'll have to clip them again at some point, as these feathers will be growing back in, and the chicks could try to take flight. They are pretty fat though, so I'm guessing this is what makes them bad at flying.