This Project Took A Lot Longer Than I Anticipated

My chicks were ready to move out of the blue box in the garage to the great outdoors.  Some things needed to be done in preparation of their arrival.  The hinges on the coop door had rusted solid so I needed to replace those.

Chickenson Caruso seemed lethargic.  She hasn't been moving around much lately.  Was she depressed?  Ill?  I didn't know.  But when she didn't move as I replaced the hinge on her door, I picked her up and moved her outside. I come to sincerely regret that decision. She clucked and clucked in a panic for about 5 minutes.  Then she took a dust bath in the sun.

Once I had the coop door secure and the new run attached, it was time for these 9 chicks to journey east to Zion.  Ok, maybe not Zion (and Zion was west, not east), but I'm reading a book about the Mormon Church of the Latter Day Saints called the Nineteenth Wife.  I don't know how many of these chicks are male so there may be some polygamy in the future for these chickens.

The chicks are ready to meet their foster mother.  Is she interested?  No, she is not interested. She has no intention of assuming motherly duties. In fact, she eludes me.  She hides under the bridal veil shrub.  I go around one way and she goes the other.  I tell her, "I'm not a monkey and you're not a weasel and this is not a mullberry bush," but does she listen?  No, she does not.  Instead she hides out in the big blue stem. I can see you!

She enjoys her sun bath and running away from me.  I am not the chicken catcher I used to be.  How frustrating is it to catch a chicken who does not want to be caught?  VERY!

There she is, just behind the coop with the new run attached and the chicks still peeping in the blue box. She is not ready to assume her duties as foster mother.  I give up and go in the house to drink a glass of wine.

About 7 o'clock I hear the winged rustle of a chicken climbing to the railing of my deck.  The chicken has come home to roost.  I got you, B___h!

Once Chicken Caruso is in the pen I can add the other chicks.  For some reason I thought it was important that she be in there first.  Look at the beautiful cuckoo Maran.  Those black and white variegated wings are so handsome.

Nine chicks move out of the blue box existence into the great outdoors.  I know I have to get them inside the coop and shut the door for the first night at least.  I grab one and put it in the coop.  Before I can grab a second one the first one flies out.  I do that five times. Exercise is futility. I'm glad no one is here to see this.  I use the blue box to herd them all into the coop.   Chickenson Caruso is tired and doesn't even stir. I was really worried there would be turmoil.  I wanted to be there to, I don't know, provide crisis intervention or family counseling.  But since it took all freaking evening to catch Mrs. Caruso, all is well, at least until morning. What would family counseling be like anyway?  What I hear you saying is, "Peep peep peep peep."