Friday, February 28, 2020

Picking up chicks.

If you have a Tractor Supply Company near you, you may know that they have a lot of supplies for your farm dog. Even if your "farm dog" is a Peke named Mr. Fuzzy whom you like to dress up. Clearly, it has plenty of supplies for more typical family dogs. It also has plenty of supplies for more typical farm animals. Sometimes even the animals.

I was getting a big sack o' dog food at TSC yesterday when I discovered that these are the Chick Days. Who knew?


That ain't hay. You can actually go on their site and pick from 88 different kinds of live birds, plus whatever you'll need to keep them live. For you country boys that's just another day at the office, but for us suburb slickers, it's all interesting. And sometimes it's a problem, as you will hear in a moment.

I'm a fan of farms because I'm a fan of food; it's my favorite thing to eat. But as past blog entries have noted, I grew up in the city knowing nothing about farms, and that hasn't changed a lot. So I'm not crazy enough to think it would be a great idea to get a bunch of baby chicks and start my own egg business in the backyard. We don't have a homeowners association here, but if I tried that I think we would have one, formed for the sole purpose of making me cease and desist.

It would probably be moot anyway, as I would likely kill the chicks by accident or the dogs would on purpose.

If you are going to a place like Tractor Supply at this time of year, allow me to suggest that you leave the children at home.

A few years back, our parish school had a little farm with a handful of animals, couple of sheep, maybe a goat, I dunno. Educational for the children. But one of the kids, a softhearted child, apparently decided to save a bunch of cute li'l chicks by buying a large mess of them. Whether it was with the intent to give them to the school farm-slash-petting zoo or if her parents just made her do it, one way or another the pastor wound up with a big pile of fuzzy little chicks and no way to take care of them over the long haul.

This ecumenical crisis was resolved over a couple of weeks, as the pastor pleaded from the pulpit for anyone who would like to take some free chicks to inquire after Mass or at the church office.

Ultimately a few families equipped for this kind of thing stepped forward, and the chicks found new homes. Maybe they joined an egg operation, or were brought to adulthood and eaten; I don't know. It was probably a bit of pain for everyone involved, especially our pastor, and more proof that you should never bring children around baby anything, because they'll want to bring it home and raise it. All baby mammals and birds are cute. Even the ugly ones.

So that's my words of advice regarding chicks. I'm in no danger of acquiring any, as I said, but it doesn't mean I'm free form risk. If my wife goes to goat yoga or something, there's a fair chance she'll try to sneak a pygmy goat into the house. Wouldn't you?

4 comments:

peacelovewoodstock said...

When I was a ute, around Easter time the Woolworth's over at Seven Corners would sell live baby chicks that had been dyed bright pink and green colors.

I was intrigued by the idea of taking one home as a pet, but even at ten years old was able to think through the likely outcome of that move.

Disposable pets, like those little turtles they used to sell in the green plastic ponds, or hermit crabs, or baby alligators. Or sea monkeys. Or most goldfish that I ever owned for that matter.

bgbear said...

When we are in Idaho at the right time of year, The CAL Ranch stores have the chicks and you can hear the peep all through the store. The chickens, ducks, and turkeys all look similar at that age. Surprise yourself.

Robert said...

We had a couple of chickens one time. Until the fox found a way into the coop
rbj

FredKey said...

Seanbaby of Cracked.com permanently cured me of any interest I might have had in chicken rearing--language warning, of course, because A) Cracked and B) Seanbaby.

https://www.cracked.com/blog/6-things-no-one-tells-you-about-living-farm/