Kamikaze Chicks

Being as though serama chicks are notoriously difficult to hatch, I am delighted to have two little bundles of fluff zooming about the hutch with Vera. However, I put so much effort, worry and time in to getting them to actually hatch,, that I deliberately ignored how difficult serama are to rear. There is no ignoring it now.

Vera is proving to be an exceptional mother. She calls them over to eat and drink, she sits to keep them warm at a moments notice, and she is wonderfully tolerant of me handling them. Really, I couldn't ask for more. However, there are some things that she can't do. Serama chicks suffer from a balance problem. They fall on to their backs, and can't get back up. Why this is is a bit of a mystery, but it is speculated that a short back coupled with tiny non-feathered wings doesn't help. Several times I have found one of them laying on their back in the chick crumb, legs cycling like mad and cheeping their hearts out. Vera seems unable to right them, but does take up a loud shrieking which alerts me to the problem. I think she's calling the chick rather than me, but it is immensely helpful. I was initially concerned that I would lose one through the night to this phenomenon, but like all good mothers Vera insists on an early bedtime for her young. She trundles off to the nest box at half six and they stay under her wings until breakfast. Between us, we're keeping them upright.

Another thing to be aware of with serama is their propensity to have pasted vents. For some reason, a lot of serama babies suffer from this problem. I noticed that Hoppy had poo stuck to his bum at 3 days old, and pulled it off. This morning, both Hoppy and the currently named Sylvie (because it seems a bit silvery in colour. Original, me) both were sporting a fetching berry of poo. Because I have done my reserach, I knew that the best thing to do in this instance was to steel myself and just rip it off. Of course, you can gently bathe the mess away, but as this is likely to be a recurring problem with these chicks a lot of breeders prefer the bald bum approach. It prevents the problem occurring again, and is over in a second. Still, I winced at the thought of giving such tiny chicks what amounts to a bikini wax. With a deep breath, I quickly tugged the blockage from Hoppy's derriere. He squeaked, understandably, and Vera pecked my finger in retaliation. Fair enough really. He is not hurt, though, just less fluffy and more exposed. Hopefully now I won't have to find him at death's door because his vent has been pasted shut. Sylvie proved a trickier customer, so I am keeping an eye on her today. I'm not convinced that her vent is actually blocked, more that her bum feathers are a bit dirty. She may get herself a trip to the bidet before the day is out, but eventually I suspect she will also be bald of bum. To steal a serama breeders quote: 'A bald arse is a clean arse'.

They appear to be developing well, but left to their own devices I can see why they have the reputation of being difficult to have success with. They are certainly not a beginners breed. However, with a large dose of luck and some intense hands on rearing, I am hoping to have at least one new flock member.

Now, back to ensuring that no-one drowns themselves/eats the bedding/blocks up their vent/gets stuck in an impossibly small space.

Gratuitous Chick Pics

Being as though I have spent all day watching the new additions, I thought I'd force lots of pictures on you lot too. Like a new mother brandishing albums full of junior being sick, here I come. And there is no escape. Mwahahahahaha!

Here we have Hoppy, 3 days old, and back in his shoe to see if we can straighten that middle banana toe a bit more.

This is the new chick, as yet un-named even temporarily, a mere 16 hours post-hatch.

Vera shows Hoppy how to eat: 'You open your face. Like this'.

Hoppy is a quick learner.

Hoppy attempts the serama pose, but looks a bit odd without any impressive feathers.

Although he is wearing very fetching 'Adam Ant' style make-up.

Holding claws.

I like to think of this look as 'Come any closer to my offspring, human, and you'll lose something fleshy'.

Handsome little devil, isn't he?

Catching up on the rugby scores.

It's the amazing six-legged chicken!

Well, chick 2 keeping warm anyway.

Hello!

I have lots more. Run. Run away while you still can!

Another Birth Story

As Day 23 slipped in to Day 24 I began to worry. The egg was still cheeping but Vera now had a lively, demanding chick (named temporarily as Hoppy) that needed to eat and drink. So she had to leave the eggs to lead the bouncy (and quite frankly, mental) Hoppy to the food and water. All the time she was away, the eggs were cooling.

I watched proceedings nervously. Twice I found Vera settled down near the feeder keeping Hoppy warm, and ignoring the cheeping egg. I put her back in the nest each time, and kept my fingers crossed. She was definitely losing the will to sit, and I couldn't blame her. Hoppy was now ranging out from under Vera's protective wing, and causing mischief. Now that Vera had shown him how to eat, he decided to practice pecking at everything. His initial target was his mother's feet. Vera would squeal as each peck landed, and shuffle backwards. This became great fun for the little chick, and eventually Vera's patience ran out. She scooped him under her wing with her beak, and muttered grumpily. However, Hoppy was not sleepy. He wriggled back around to Vera's front, bashing the other eggs about as he did so, and arrived in front of her triumphant. He then tried to peck her in the eye. Vera was too quick for him and got her eye closed before he could make contact. So he weaved his head around to the other side and had a go at her other eye. This continued for a while, with the chick pestering her eyes alternately, and Vera doing semaphore with her eyelids. I admired her patience and restraint. Eventually, the little hooligan got sleepy and flopped forward on to the bedding, cheeping exhaustedly. Vera shuffled forwards and covered him with her ample bosom. She probably got a whole five minutes of peace.

Every so often the cheeping egg would really go for it, and Hoppy would cheep back. They were soon dueting an almighty racket, and Vera's soothing crooning did little to quieten them. I kept watching for signs of pipping, but as the afternoon wore on I began to lose heart. As Vera took Hoppy for his dinner, I picked the egg up and listened. The chick inside was scratching and tapping but didn't seem to be getting anywhere. The temptation to help it was enormous, but I know that if a chick isn't strong enough to pip, it isn't strong enough to live. So I put the egg back, and resumed my anxious vigil.

Once night fell, Vera was firmly ensconced on the eggs. Even Hoppy fell silent for a bit. Deciding what would be would be, I distracted myself for a couple of hours. When I couldn't keep away any more, I went out with my torch for a peep. I found Vera undulating. There was obviously great activity going on beneath her wings. Spotting the end of an egg peeking out from under her, I lifted her wing to get a closer look. And that's when I realised that the visible egg was just shell. Investigating a little further, I discovered a newly hatched, panting serama chick. Well, it's bum anyway. Hoppy was sat on it's head.

This morning, I went out to check on my little serama family. The new chick was mostly dry but noticably weaker than Hoppy. This might just be because it's two days behind it's nest mate, so hopefully it will catch up. However, Vera is no longer sitting in the nest. She has decamped to the food area, and this worries me a little. The new chick really needs her to stay sat so it can keep warm, but she's running about after it's bigger, louder nest mate. I found the new chick on it's back earlier in the chick crumb, cheeping pitifully. I rescued it and Vera watched me carefully while stuffing her face. I can't blame her, she has been sat for nearly four weeks and has lost weight. She needs to feed herself up. Hoppy is now old enough to follow her around also scoffing, but the new chick was getting left behind. Worried it would get cold, I did the only thing I could think of. Please don't judge me, reader. I stuck the chick down my top. Vera finished her meal keeping her beady eye on my cheeping cleavage, and then after a minute or two loudly demanded her baby back. I returned it to her, and she sat tucking one chick under each wing. I will keep a close eye on her.

Sadly, I do think that one of the other eggs had signs of life first thing this morning. I think I heard some tapping. But Vera has decided enough is enough, and she now has her wings quite literally full. When I last went out, the eggs in the nest were cold and there was no sign of life. I suspect that the three eggs contain dead chicks, as serama are known for dying in the shell. I can't bring myself to open them, but nor can I throw them away. Soft hearted as I am, I think I will bury them. I started this experiment with twelve eggs, and it has ended with two live hatches. Considering everything that was against me, I am quite pleased with that.

I removed Hoppy's shoe this morning. His two outer toes are now in the correct position, but his middle toe is bent to the left like a banana. It doesn't seem to be troubling him judging by how fast he can scuttle, so I'm not overly worried at this stage. The other chick's feet look normal.

Now I just have to wait and see what flavour they are.

Day 23 - Another Egg Is Cheeping

A quick update. As expected, the little chick threw it's shoe again within hours. So I brought out the big guns. He is now sporting a fabric sticking plaster flip flop. See if you can wriggle out of that piece of evil stickiness, mate.

While I was fitting our little pal for his footwear, Vera used the opportunity to grab a bite to eat. She was busily gulping down corn and water when I put the little guy back, and he ran/fell across to his mum cheeping his bonce off. She ignored him for a bit, and i began to worry that he'd get cold. But then, with an air of resignation known to mothers everywhere, she squatted down and covered him with her wing. And that's when it dawned on me that she was going to set up home right there, near the food. Sensible enough, really. Except as I peeked in at the remaining eggs, I thought I heard a tiny, muffled cheep. Carefully picking it up, I placed my ear to the shell. The egg cheeped again. I hurriedly set it back down, and much to Vera and her offspring's annoyance, moved them both back to the nest.

Vera rearranged her eggs again, and sat down. The chick ran/fell about all over the place before attempting to shove itself up her bum. Everyone has their limit, and Vera crossly butted it under herself with her head, muttering no doubt about naughty steps and being grounded. After a few more shouty cheeps, it fell silent.

Let's hope it'll have a pal to snuggle up to soon.

Day 23

This morning I got up hoping that at least one of the other eggs would have pipped. As far as I can tell, that hasn't happened. We still have just the one noisy serama baby. It had managed to shed it's shoe during the night, so with difficulty the ever tolerant husband and I replaced it's sticking plaster footwear. It shrieked it's tiny head off the entire time, and the worried mother waddled around the nest in cricles looking for it. When I popped it back next to her, it basically threw a  tantrum complaining about this horrific treatment before diving back under her wing. Vera chattered soothingly to it the entire time. Just for the 'awwwww' factor, here's a family portrait:

Vera listens to her youngster's complaints.

So, now I'm wondering if I'll be left with a lone chick. I know that a lone chick in a brooder is not a good thing, but can't find much information about lone chicks with broodies. If I could get my hands on a serama baby or two, I would gladly pop them under her. That is unlikely to happen, though. So this little fuzzy might be it.

If anyone has any suggestions for a unisex name for 'It', feel free to comment.

First Chick - First Pics

While obsessively watching Vera and her new chick, I noticed that the little micro chook had mixed up toes. It's outer toe crossed under the foot, so it couldn't walk properly. In fact, it was walking on the side of it's foot. So I googled, consulted some poultry peep friends of mine, and fitted it with a tiny shoe. Well, when I say shoe, I mean a plaster. The ever tolerant husband assisted by holding the plaster still, while I placed the chick's toes straight on it. Then we simply folded the plaster over the top, holding the toes in the correct position. The chick was unimpressed with this whole treatment, and cheeped it's tiny head off the whole time. Vera watched us carefully, but remained calm and once her little charge was returned to her, happily stashed it back under her wing. It seems that Vera has lost her appetite for small fuzzies.

Chick 1, sporting this seasons must have eyeliner.

If you look carefully, you can see that it's right foot is curled. The outer toe is not visible, but was curled under the foot and resting near the inner toe. By the time the shoe was fitted, the poor thing was desperate to get back to Vera so there is no comedy 'giant plaster shoe' pic.

Notice how I am saying 'it' in a feeble attempt not to get attached.

Who am I kidding.

Day 22 - First Chick!

So, here it is. The moment of hatching, captured by the ever tolerant husband:



I just hope that those are pecks of love, not contemplating a snack.

Some Good News, And Some Not So Good News

First, the good news. Doris seems to be responding well to the Tylan. At least, she is not getting worse and I can't hear any wheezing. The incarcerated ladies are bearing up quite well considering, restraining their protests until they clap eyes on me. I am once again scuttling about beneath window ledges in a bid to keep the peace. It's a case of cruel to be kind, however, so I am persevering.

The not so good news concerns the chicks. They are three weeks old today, and I took some more pics last night.

Chick 1.

Chick 2.

Chick 3.

As you can see, the lavender chick is looking rather red, comby and wattley. Unfortunately, the other two also look like they're heading the same way. I posted these pics on Twitter, where I have some followers who are much more experienced with chick sexing than me, and it seems that I might have three boys. Bah. I am most disappointed, especially as I was hoping to have just the one cockerel. It'll be another week before I can be totally sure, but the signs aren't good. The lavender chick is back to being Chick 2, and I am deliberately trying to distance myself from all three.

Not the best start to hatching.

They Know

The girls are aware that something is up. They watch me walking back and forth to the garage with alert postures, and low chuntering. They have seen me carrying what looks suspiciously like their treat bowl, and yet they have recieved no treats in it. Most damning of all, they have heard the peeps.

Yesterday, I left the garage door open while I cleaned out the unbelievably messy chicks. Catching movement from the corner of my eye, I turned to find the magnificent Mabel standing in the doorway, the sunlight behind her giving off a 'gunslinger at the saloon'-type vibe. The peeps were, well, peeping. Mabel had her head cocked at an angle, listening to the alien chook chatter. Then she eyeballed me, turned around on the step, and stalked off in disgust, her ample behind swinging regally. Once back on the lawn, she called a flock meeting. I can only imagine what was said, but it looked fairly peaceful.

The peeps are growing at a truly astonishing rate. They have got the hang of eating, drinking, scratching about and even play fighting. They seem to think that each others' faces need a damn good pecking at random opportunities, and that falling asleep while standing up and then keeling over is perfectly acceptable. All in all, they are as comical and individual as their larger counterparts.

For anyone still playing the feather sexing game, here are a few more shots:

Chick 1, the first to hatch.

Chick 2, the assumed lavender.

Chick 3, the smallest of the three.

And some other pics, just because they're so cute:

Chick 2 is the biggest.

Chick 3 is the teeniest, and most vocal.

I am waiting for any sign of frizzling, but have yet to see any. I have my fingers crossed.

Feather Sexing

Today the peeps are two days old. I have attempted to feather sex them, as per the link. I have drawn my own early conclusions. Let's see if anyone else out there agrees with me.

The lavender chick, number two to hatch.

The first chick to hatch.

Number three.

Place your bets.....now!

A Bit Of Sad News, And A Chick Update

The last chick didn't make it. It was in the slightly odd shaped egg, and I was always a little unsure about it. It did seem to pip yesterday, although I'm not certain the damage to the shell wasn't caused by the other chicks bouncing all over it. This morning, I opened the shell to peer inside, and it had died. A real shame, as it was fully formed.

However, I am focusing on the three successes currently bouncing around the brooder like insane cotton wool balls. They are steadier on their feet today, and are beginning to peck at everything. Including each other. Sigh. They amusingly fall asleep at odd moments, and just flop forwards on to their faces. I'm guessing that this is normal chick behaviour, and that I haven't got a bunch of narcoleptic poultry. The two dark chicks have decided that the larger lavender chick is some sort of cushion, and keep trying to sleep on it. It seems resigned to this role on occassion, and on others gets up and wobbles off, leaving the once comfy smaller chick sprawling on its back.

A kind Twitter pal has sent me a link about feather sexing, so I have had a go this morning. It involves looking at the feathers just beginning to sprout on the wings. The pin feathers come through in two rows, and apparently in a female the leading pins will be longer than the second row. In males, they should be more or less equal. The lavender chick seems to have female characteristics. The two dark chicks don't appear to have any feathers yet. Hmmmm. I will check again tomorrow.

The journey begins.

Some Uber Cute Fluffy Chick Pics

Chick 1, who I think is going to be black.

Chick 2, who I think is a lavender.

...And Then There Were Two!

I got home from the school run just in time to see the next chick explode forth from it's egg. The egg at the top of the picture has a large hole and is rocking about like mad.

We Have A Chick!

Early this morning, we came downstairs to find a tiny, soggy chick flopping about in the incubator. Every so often, it lifts it's head and cheeps at us, before dragging itself about to bash it's siblings' eggs. Another one has pipped, so now there is only one stubbonly refusing to get on with coming in to the world.

The chick is super cute, and growing stronger by the minute. I fear that my determination not to get attached has already gone out of the window. This is bad news, especially as the chick has a tiny serated comb. Arse. Still, I have a good few weeks to find new homes for any boys, and I'm hoping that it will be possible.

The children (and ever tolerant husband) are fascinated. I am trying to be quite blase about the whole affair, but in reality it is an amazing thing. Three weeks ago, this tiny, wobbly baby chicken was no more than the average egg. Miraculous.

You can just make out the tiny crack that the chick had made in the egg at around 8.30 yesterday morning.

This is what we found this morning at 6am.

I hope to have more birth announcements by the end of the day.