We have babies. It really worked, just like nature intended. No galvanized water trough at Big R babies for us — these hens at the Boyer Bunny Ranch are bonafide.
They had some help, of course, and the whole thing was a complete accident, to be fair, but sure enough, left to their own devices, Larry and Chester got the job done.
I had actually placed an official order for baby chicks with my local crack. Sorry, I do mean chicken, but it's basically the same thing, dealer. Byron was going to hook me up with the goods. I was thinking a set of Yokohamas, and some traditional leghorns, but then I got sick.
Then my mom got sick, and I had to hustle down to Vegas for a week and leave the care of the Bunny Ranch in the capable hands of the Princess and her boyfriend, who, in all their helpfulness, forgot to collect the eggs. The whole time.
We had been getting nearly nine eggs every day and did have a couple of broody hens, so those ol' gals took advantage of the bounty and sat away. By the time I got home, there were nearly thirty eggs in one of the totes, with three mean-as-a-snake momma hens camped out, threatening anyone who came near.
Consulting with Dr. Google told me we had a 21-day wait to see if this was going to work, so I gathered the eggs out of the other tote and left the three biddies to do their thing.
After a week of watching this, I got a little worried about those mommas — it didn't appear they had ever left the eggs. How would they survive 21 days with no food or water? I tried to imagine in the wild how they would handle this and then just figured a bowl of water and a tray of food in the nest couldn't hurt.
The closer to D-Day we rolled, the more worried I got. The chickens at the Boyer Bunny Ranch are free-range. They politely put themselves to bed in the bunny shed every night, except Rose, who stubbornly sleeps in the garage with Joyce's cat. And there's Servius, Rex, and Miss Tracy, who will not abandon the chicken tractor. So the three hens-a-laying were really pretty out in the open in their totes on the floor of the bunny shed.
I was worried if we did get chicks that, something would simply help themselves to a snack.
And then it happened. On day 23.
I went to let the chickens out and feed, and water bunnies, and there in the tote were three hissing hens. Mad as could be, I figured something had changed, and sure enough — sacrificing my arms revealed several little balls of fluff peeping up out of the sawdust.
Ho-lee cow!
This has been super fun. It's really cool to watch how the rest of the chicken flock protect the nesting moms. Hector and Mikey, the mousers, sure enough, realized something was new in there and spent some time the first day slinking over to check it out. But the minute they got close to the door, the roosters would ease over between them and the shed and just mill about until the cats lost interest.
I wasn't about to take a chance, though, so at the end of day two, I fortified the chicken tractor with cardboard and cinder bricks, evicted Rex and Miss Tracy, and turned it into the nursery where the babies are safe to grow in peace.
So while I watch these little chicks peep around in pure joy, I'll still be right here…
…Keeping you Posted.
Rach
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