Starting Monday Out Right with the Now Two-Legged Midget Chick and Her Big Sisters

The chicks turned seven weeks old on Thursday, and I breathed a sigh of relief. They were not only still alive, but thriving. I had read weeks ago on a forum someone's tale of their chicks up and dying at seven weeks and they did not know why. This sent me at high speed into dark imaginings. I then and there quit reading on chicken forums.

Our little Princess Puny, special needs chick. At about half the size of the rest in the flock, she nevertheless continues to grow, at her own pace and time. She uses both legs now, walks and runs around the extended area of the chicken run, although she does not perch. Managing the ramp to the hen house was a slow challenge for her. She finds it best to fly up and down. She remains smaller and, well, puny, but there has been no picking on her by the other chicks at all. For a time one of the Buff Orpingtons seems to be a companion by her side.

A better picture of Princess Puny and her Big Sister, to show their differences in size, as well as the shape of their heads. Puny's head remains a round ball.

We enjoy all the chicks, but little Princess Puny is a special delight. She reminds me of the power of just keeping on, and then laying down when you’re tired, getting up again and pressing on, doing what you can do, being a blessing as just who and what you are.

Commitment to our unique way of life, then is our task today and every day. It is not to be undertaken for our self-improvement, nor for salvation of the world or society, but simply because we can do no other if we are to be true to the individual hypothesis of our lives. ~Helen M. Luke

Starting Monday out right…
Dear God, help me to see see clearly my talents and all the magnificent possibilities extended before me. Give me the courage to use them, day by day. So it is. Amen.

Another Normal Monday, and the Chicks and I are Still Here…

Starting Monday out right…

I began the day at 5:30, when I took a bit of food out to the chicks. I gave thanks that they were still alive. That I halfway do not expect them to be goes to show my nature. No wonder I’m a writer.

Dear God, thank you for the start of another precious normal day. Let me see the treasures of normal days, really see them. Let me live in the present moment, and not keep rushing ahead to the future that always seems either more dire or more perfect. Let me enjoy this day! Amen.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

The chicks, and I, have entered their fourth week.

Last week I anew learned that chicks, and humans, are always changing. I have changed in that I can no longer look after a five-year-old and focus on any sort of writing. What cannot be changed is to be accepted, and best happily so. I put my plans on hold, and went with the flow, in the process learning the surprising facts that I can still play kick-ball and actually enjoy digging in the dirt. And I can break a worm in half. Is there anything I cannot do, with that fact behind me?

“Nana do the worms like to get ate?”

What would you have said to that? I opted for the truth. “I don’t think so.”

Worm digging stopped for the day.

I learned that little boys are apt to fall into the cage head first.

I learned that we never know what is going to happen. Our little Princess Puny, who we thought would surely die, is still peeping along.

She is puny. Her feathers are not coming in as fast as the others. Below is a shot of her sister. See the difference in feathers?

But Princess Puny is still with us, and still growing at her own rate, never mind what all the others birds do, or what might be expected of her. That’s her testimony, and often mine.