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?