I heard some scuffling, then HW blandly said “I think she’s ready to be out of the box.”He’d taken the netting off of her so she could stretch her neck up without restriction. I thought this very promising, a signal that I could return her to the flock, if she was feeling spunky.She perched on the side of the box for a good twenty minutes. Not too terribly spunky.I resumed my business. I heard another scuffle, then silence, and I forgot about it.
She had jumped down, and was standing on the floor. I gave her a local newspaper.We visited. I kept doing my thing. She walked around a little bit, then settled in on her newspaper. I felt she didn’t need any monitoring, and left her to it. Not long later, I heard a third scuffle and checked. She’d just hopped back into her box (where she settled down for a little nap and stayed, without confinement or supervision, the rest of the day).
Funny bird. Her whole foray out of the box was about a half hour long.
I’ve never known a chicken to be so happy to live in a box. It’s crazy. She seems perfectly content to nap, eat, groom herself. Repeat. She eats breakfast and settles down into the hay for a nap. Eats lunch, stretches out in the sun and naps. Eats a snack, sighs, tucks her head under a wing and takes a nap.
I’m glad she’s eating. It’s her only real job. And I can feel her putting on weight. But I do want to see signs of normal chicken behaviour, like escape attempts. Scritching. Opinions. No, she’s just I live in a box now. So the jury is still out on, Is she ill? Or Is she just the mildest chicken ever? She’s growing slow for her age, hence the forced confinement with snack bar, so maybe her mildness is a symptom of hunger? Not the usual symptom of hunger. The only sure way to get a rise out of her is autofocus. The green light makes her hit the dark far side of her box in zero time flat. I’ll be looking through the viewfinder at her, lining up a perfect shot of her being cute, touch autofocus, and *poof*. Where’d she go? I failed to get many excellent pictures that way. The only way I can get closeups is in full sunshine; that drowns out the autofocusing green light. Oh, falling asleep. Going… Gone. No, I’m awake. See, my eyes are o….o…oh, back to sleep
HW shakes his head soberly and says I’m headed for a certain destiny of being a crazy chicken lady that has chickens in the house wearing diapers (Ok, I don’t think that necessarily correlates to mental instability, just sayin), but he loves her too. She’s too precious, and it’s fun to have a quiet little poofy pet. A purse chicken.