A Place of their Own (2 Comments)
The chicks were growing up. Being teenagers, if you will.
The food would get low and they would fly to the fridge to get some more.
OK, maybe not. But they would get restless and start flying out of the box onto various nearby things. Like the table and the island. I was thrilled as I am sure you would be too.
They were staying up way too late at night, “talking.” We turned out their light.
They were simply getting too big for the box and needed more space. We’d try taking them outside for awhile each day to run off energy but it didn’t seem to be working.
Company was coming…the race was on to get a pen done.
The Col. had helpers.
Some were very enthusiastic and worked away even when a friend visited.
There were supervisors, too.
Nailing together the door.
In their very nice pen under their temporary shelter as they oversee the building of their coop.
Ah, I had a fowl-less kitchen again.
Great pics! I feel your frustration with chicks in the house!
Comment by Julie — June 10, 2009 @ 3:56 pm
Yowsa, I’m with Julie. ‘Em’r big chicks to stow in the kitchen. And you may send the construction contingent to my house; I’m sure we can find a chicken house that could use a pen. Or a roof that needs shingles. Or … OK, I’ll stop there.
Comment by kn. — June 11, 2009 @ 5:48 am