Daniel found One dead yesterday — our young rooster, who was the first chicken to ever hatch at the Manor. Like Bebelina’s death, this one was sudden, mysterious, and totally unexpected. There was not a mark on him, and no previous signs of illness.
We’re sincerely hoping this is the end of it. The pen, house, feeders, and waterers have gotten an unscheduled cleaning, and if we lose a third bird I’ll be calling the state veterinary office about a free necropsy.
Oh and then I got home from work and the handle broke on the toilet.
This week is fired.
Zombirella I believe I mentioned here as the young pullet who got the back of her head pecked off down to bone. It turns out chickens are startlingly resilient; we moved her into the house, got her antibiotics and kept her safe from flies and infection, and these days you can’t even tell where the pecking happened since the wound closed up and the feathers are growing back in. She’s become a favorite of ours, since spending those weeks in the house she has decided that people are definitely her friends and comes running to be petted whenever we go out to the Big Chicken Pen.
One is, of course, the first chick ever hatched at the Manor. I swear he’s a cockeral, Daniel claims he’s a pullet. I guess we’ll find out who’s right in the coming months as he finishes growing up!
One is actually colored just like their daddy Blackbeard. I should probably bet Daniel money that One is a rooster-to-be, because I am that sure of it. One of these days, One is going to go roostertastic — probably about the time we move Mad Mel the Magnificent into a pen with some beardless silkies in case I want showgirl chicks.