2 min readfrom Raising Chickens or Other Poultry for Eggs, Meat, or as Pets

No one warned me that when you are Mother the chicks try to roost on your face

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No one warned me that becoming Mother to my chicks would mean the little feathered tornadoes would try to roost on my face! This week, I moved my 7-week-old chicks from their cozy brooder to their new coop, and as night approached, their alarm bells started ringing. Peeking inside, I was greeted by a delightful swarm of cheeping fluffballs. When I sat down to encourage them to roost, I became their favorite perch—five or six of them took the invitation literally, vying for the top spot on my head! It turned charmingly chaotic as they squabbled for space, and I found myself in a protective fetal position, hoping for a peaceful night. With 18 chicks, I truly am in over my head—it's a cluck-tastic adventure!

The whimsical tale of a new chicken keeper experiencing the chaotic antics of her 7-week-old chicks is both heartwarming and relatable. As she bravely transitions her feathered friends from the brooder to their coop, she faces a familiar challenge: the struggle to coax her alarmed chicks into a cozy roosting spot. The charm quickly escalates from delightful to disorienting as these little creatures decide that her body is the perfect substitute for a mother hen. This scenario resonates with many in the chicken-keeping community—after all, who hasn’t experienced the delightful madness of their flock’s antics? It's moments like these that remind us of the joys and absurdities of keeping chickens, something we've explored in articles like Letting out of coop and Hardware cloth on the inside?.

This delightful chaos underscores a deeper truth about chicken keeping: it’s often a messy blend of joy and vulnerability. The author’s experience of being swarmed by her chicks, who are desperately seeking comfort, encapsulates the essence of the love-hate relationship many have with these curious creatures. As we revel in their antics, we also grapple with the responsibility of being their caretaker. The author’s longing for a real mother hen to guide her chicks reflects a common sentiment among chicken enthusiasts. We know all too well that while we may be their caregivers, we often feel like we’re the ones in need of guidance in this wild adventure.

The humorous yet honest portrayal of the author’s experience highlights a significant aspect of chicken keeping: the emotional bond that forms between keeper and flock. It’s not just about providing food and shelter; it’s about nurturing relationships and embracing the delightful chaos that comes with them. The clash of enjoying their company while navigating the challenges is a shared experience for many. This is where the community comes into play—sharing stories, advice, and even laughs about our feathered friends’ antics. Such experiences help foster a sense of camaraderie among chicken keepers, as we collectively navigate the ups and downs of our flocks.

Looking ahead, we can't help but wonder: how will this new generation of chickens develop their own personalities and quirks? As they grow, will they become more independent, or will they continue to seek comfort from their human caretaker? The evolution of these bonds brings an exciting layer to the chicken-keeping experience, reminding us that each flock has its unique dynamics. It's a journey filled with growth, laughter, and perhaps a few more unexpected face-to-beak encounters. As we share our stories and support one another, we can look forward to navigating the delightful madness of chicken keeping together, one cluck at a time.

I moved my 7-week-old chicks out of the brooder and into their coop this week. They were having a great time until nightfall, and as the light faded, they became increasingly alarmed. When I peeked in through the door they swarmed my feet, cheeping.

I stepped into the coop and sat by their roost, hoping to coax them up off the cold ground. Five or six of them took that as an invitation to roost on ME. They perched on my lap, shoulders, and back, fighting over the spot on the top of my head. My crossbill cockerel preened my hair (or was just tangled in my ponytail.. maybe both). And three separate times, one of them launched themselves directly at my face, scratching my cheeks with their pointy little beaks and toenails. It was charming at first, until suddenly I found myself hunched over in the fetal position, protecting my face while an unknown number of birds, squabbling and poopy, desperately sought comfort on my every horizontal surface on my body. It felt like ages before I managed to extract myself.

I wish I could stay out with them all night without getting pooped on. I wish they had a real mother hen to keep them warm and teach them to be chickens... but none of my hens have gone broody, so I hatched these myself. I really am Mother. And with 18 chicks, I'm in a little over my head.

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#chickens#fear of chickens#chicks#coop#brooder#roost#mother hen#cockerel#cheeping#hens#broody#hatching#scraching#comfort#poopy#preening#feet#fetal position#vertical surfaces#nightfall