chicken house immigrants

When I was driving to go get the new Silkies, I was thinking many things along the lines of “What am I doing?” But then I got there and it was not a good situation for chickens, so it all made sense, and I took all the birds I could away, glad I could liberate some.

The next morning, I opened the ramp on the new flock to the first real dirt and sunlight, and more space than they’d ever had, and…nothing.  No one budged.This pretty little Silver hen was set to be first out, probably just  because she slept by  the door.When I opened up, she immediately started doing owl impressions, swiveling her head around to look at everything.She was especially interested in looking up.  She’s never seen so much up.   Perhaps they’ve never seen sunlight. She was taking her sweet time about assessment, so I left her to it and did something else.

20 minutes later:Oh!  She’s dipping a toe in! A whole foot!Two feet! And a roo peeking out behind. This whole procedure to get to this point took another twenty minutes (she’s going to have a sore neck), so I left her to inch down the ramp on her own.  No one was exactly pushing past her to be the first.An hour later. Finally, landed! The brahmas spectating at the viewing window.

Another hour later:Half the birds are still in the box, but the ones out have polished off their food, knocked over the waterer, and are SO into scratching.  I’ve never seen scratching with such enthusiastic abandon. I expected some wild, weird, bad behaviour from the crazed refugee chickens, but they seem pretty… normal.  Sweet, mild.  Peripherally vision challenged.  Harriet Potter has found her happy place.The roosters sizing each other up.  That’s exactly what the viewing window is for.  Controlled contact.

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