Sunday, February 15, 2009
There Are Some Things In Life You Just Don't Anticipate
Setting: Our bedroom, midnight.
...peep peep peep peep PEEP PEEP PEEP PEEP PEEP! PEEP! PEEP!...
What is wrong with those chicks?
It's not even all of them--it's just ONE. Listen.
I know, it's that one with the weird-looking head. He won't shut up.
Do you think he's brain-damaged?
I don't know. I'll go see. They don't make noise like that unless they need something.
(I go into the hearthroom, retrieve Loudmouth Chick, and bring him back into the bedroom, in a paper towel. He is cheeping his tiny, fuzzy head off. LOUDLY.)
What is wrong with him? What is wrong with you, little dude?
Here, set him down on the towel.
Oh, look at his feet! His toes are all curled up--he can't uncurl his toes! He has toe cramps! That's why he's peeping--his toes hurt! Or he can't make his way to the food and water, and he's hungry and thirsty.
Well, he's deformed. We should probably cull him now...
Wait, lemme look for something first.
What are you doing?
I'm searching "chick curled toes" on Chickenpedia. Watch, there will be 100 posts about it. Yep, here's a picture that looks just like it.
So, what do we do about it?
We have to put it down.
WAIT--let me just check a few more threads...
For what, tiny corrective shoes?
Maybe. AHA! (I get up, and come back with scissors, cardboard, duct tape, and the deformed chick.)
What? Are? You? Doing?
I am making a tiny pair of corrective shoes for a baby chicken.
Are you kidding me?
Do YOU want to snap his tiny, fuzzy little neck? Feed him to the dogs?
And that is how I came to be sharing a house with a clutch of chicks, one of whom is currently wearing some stylin' little boots.