every day is a good day
Six weeks ago these chicks were tiny balls of fur. Now they are half the size of their mother and will soon be on their own. At this size, much of the time they are the ones leading their mother. Six weeks ago, they stayed as close as possible to her, following her every move. Another four to five months, the hens will be laying eggs and the roosters doing what they like to do. Below is what they looked like five weeks ago.
This afternoon, when I went out to collect eggs and check on the chickens, I spotted a hen with chicks taking an afternoon break in the shade of a mimosa tree. The chicks were just a few days old and it wasn’t one of the hens sitting on eggs in the coop. It was a hen who had hatched her chicks in the brush somewhere and was bringing her chicks around for food and water for the first time.
Recently, there had been a hen who acted very broody when she came into the chicken yard to feed, but I never did see her sitting on eggs. Now I know why. She had a clutch of eggs in the brush or woods somewhere. It makes me wonder how many other hens will come popping out of the woods with chicks in tow.
I have plenty of little helpers eager to lend their feet as I clear land for new fencing. These five week old chicks are very curious as to what I am doing. They’ve made the connection that my clearing land means plenty of bugs and earthworms to eat. Their mother is ever vigilant. A mother hen invests so much time and energy raising chicks, I wonder what they feel when their brood is finally raised and on their own. Do they feel a sense of accomplishment?
Two days ago when I heard an eagle cry, I went into the field where I knew she was, to make sure she was safe. I found her but none of her chicks. She had told them to spread out and hide in the grass. They were so well hidden, I almost stepped on one. While they hid, I chased the eagle off. Once it had flown away, I went back to check on the mother and her chicks. One by one the chicks popped out of the grass they were hiding under, and I herded the mother and chicks out of the field.
Chickens have tiny brains. There is no denying that. But they aren’t small robots with no feelings. They feel joy, exhilaration, angst, fear, rage, jealousy, a rich spectrum of emotions. They deserve to be treated with great respect and love.
Do chickens count? The mother hens seem to be able to count rather well. While they herd their flock of chicks around, they are keenly aware if all of the chicks are present. If a chick or two or three are missing, they will go looking for them. Or if they are leading their chicks on to a new place and there are stragglers, they will go back and fetch them.
So the mother hens have a concept of “all my chicks are here” or “some of my chicks are missing”. Whether they count or not, who knows. But they certainly know if all of their chicks are present or not.
In his New York Times article Are Chicks Brighter Than Babies? from 2013, Nicholas Kristof writes:
For starters, hens can count — at least to six. They can be taught that food is in the sixth hole from the left and they will go straight to it. Even chicks can do basic arithmetic, so that if you shuffle five items in a shell game, they mentally keep track of additions and subtractions and choose the area with the higher number of items. In a number of such tests, chicks do better than toddlers.
I’ve had hens raise as many as 12 chicks, and they keep track of every single one, so perhaps hens can count up to at least 12.
These chicks are just one day old. They hatched yesterday morning. We moved the hen and chicks into a small barn for some peace and quiet. This morning when we opened the door for her, she was ready to show them the world.
She’s got them on a full scale life enrichment program from the get go. You’re not hatchery chicks so it’s sink or swim, little ones! Let’s find some worms. Move those legs. It’s not nap time yet.