Yesterday morning I went to Costco and got them to give me a watermelon box for free. On the way home, I stopped at the farm where I had been told they were charging $5 per chick. That seemed high, but I thought it was worth a visit because of the menagerie of other animals they have out there. Charlotte had fun looking at the horses, ponies, cows, a donkey, a water buffalo, ducks, chickens, turkeys, pheasants, peacocks, dogs and puppies.
It was a worker rather than the owner who showed me around and showed me the available chickens and chicks. I flexed some negotiating skills. "I was wondering how much you are charging, because at the feed store they're going for $2 and $3 a chick."
He asked me how many I would want. I said five or six. "How about $3 a chick?" he offered.
There were babies of all kinds of fowl mixed together in the brooder. Judging by size and feather growth, most of them were older than the chicks I had before. I was hoping for younger ones, but then thought that the older they were the sooner they'd grow enough to be laying (or, if any turned out to be roosters, to be dinner).
There were only 5 standard-sized chicken chicks in with all the other birds, so he asked me if it would be okay if the sixth chick was a bantam (miniature breed of chicken). I hesitatingly agreed. He offered to give me an older chick we had seen outside for free too. He put the chicks in a cardboard box, closed the lid and handed it to me. We walked to my car so I could get my purse.
When it came time to pay I discovered I only had a ten and three fives. He said he had no change. I saw a two dollar bill in his billfold but he said he couldn't give that to me. He said I could come back another day to get the change. I figured even if I never got the change, $20 for seven chickens wasn't that bad of a deal, so I gave him a ten and two fives.
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| The shed that houses the chicks' brooder |
When I opened the small cardboard box so I could place the chickens into their new home, I found out that the oldest chick, the one that had been thrown in for "free," could fly!
She (at least I think and hope it's a she) flew straight up and out of the watermelon box and hid in a corner of the shed behind the boxes containing our Christmas decorations.
I caught her fairly easily. With her held in one hand, I slid the shed doors as closed as they go, took the framed piece of wire and laid it over the top of the watermelon box. It wasn't quite wide enough to cover the whole top, but I hoped it would be enough to deter escape.
No such luck. As soon as I put her back in, the little escape artist found the gap in my makeshift cover and flew out of the box again. This time I couldn't seem to find where she went. I searched behind every box and in every nook and cranny. She could not be found. Another chick was flapping its wings quite a bit, so I went to find a bigger cover for the watermelon box, being careful to close the doors behind me again.
In the tool shed, I found the roll of wire that had so inadequately protected my last flock. While I was getting that, Charlotte went back to the storage shed and opened the doors so she could look at the chickens again. I wondered if the missing chick could have flown out the wider gap.
Adam came home not long after and helped me search, to no avail. We were fairly certain she was just gone. Charlotte said the chicken was in the mulberry tree.
As I told the story to Adam about how I had come to purchase the chicks, I began to feel uneasy about the lack of change. I should have just offered the worker $15 for 5 chicks (or 6 chicks if he still wanted to give me the "free" one).
On a whim, I packed up all the chicks (except for the missing one) and drove them back to the farm. I found the worker and told him that I'd like him to take one back so he could give me five dollars as change.
He said he had given my money to his employer and had nothing in his wallet he could give me. The wallet was full of cash.
"Looks like a lot of bills there," I observed.
"Those are twenties," he said.
I said, "Well then, you can call your boss and ask him to bring me out a five."
He got out his cell phone. While he was on the phone, Charlotte wandered off to look at the puppies again so I followed her. When we circled back around, the worker was off the phone so I asked him what he had found out. He asked me if I had a five on me. I said yes, and he pulled out his wallet and gave me a ten (so much for his wallet only having $20s!)
I asked him which chick he wanted back. He said I could keep them all because they already had more chickens than they knew what to do with. Then he said, "This is from my own pocket."
I thanked him for being so honest--more than honest.
"Are you married?" he asked.
As I drove home I thought about my new flock. I wondered what exact breed they were (the worker had said Rhode Island Red but they looked very light compared to the Reds I had had before), and how many would be hens and how many would be roosters. I thought maybe I should increase my odds and get more chicks at the Houston Feed Store where they were charging $2 per chick. Now that I had my $5 back, I could get two more and still come out ahead. So I went to the Houston Feed Store and bought two of their Rhode Island Reds that had been born on Thursday. Somehow it felt right to be back at eight, the number in my old flock.
Here's a picture I took of my new flock this afternoon.
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| How many chickens are in this picture? |
Count the chickens in the picture. Notice anything unusual?
This morning Adam went out to the shed and noted droppings on the floor outside the watermelon box. I looked in the corner where the droppings were most concentrated and sure enough, spotted the little fugitive.
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| The fugitive chick |
So, I have nine chicks of unknown breed and gender. I hope at least half of them are hens!!!
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| Andy is forbidden to enter the shed and the chicks will not be having outside playtime until their coop is finished! |
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