Do you ever make decisions that seem like a good idea but in
hindsight make you want to go back in time and slap yourself? That happened
last night.
About one-thirty in the morning my husband suddenly asks
while we are lying in bed if I made sure the chicks were put up for the night.
Crap. After telling him I’ll go check, he gets up and does it himself. I should
have known that something was wrong when he didn’t come back for over half an
hour. Sure enough, two were dead and one was barely breathing. This morning the
one he tried to save didn’t make it through the night.
A couple things ran through my mind last night as I tried to
fall asleep but my brain was not having it. The first being that while I
thought they would be big enough to be out in the run with the older girls, I
didn’t think about how cold it is still getting at night, and the second is
that I should have put the heat lamp in the henhouse if the chicks were going
to be out in the coop until they were fully feathered.
So now what? Do we take this as a learning experience for
next time or as an omen that we shouldn’t get any more chicks for a while?
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