Pecking Order

We still aren't sure of the sex of the four chickens we now keep (we hope they are all hens because I doubt we can get away with keeping a rooster in this neighborhood), but we are getting a clearer sense of their different personalities.

(l to r): Midnight, Kirby, Peter, Meta Knight

While still chicks living in the cage, Kirby (the Rhode Island White) was the most aggressive. When we opened the door to let them out, Kirby was the first one out and the last one back in. When they first moved into the coop, Kirby would often sit apart while the other three huddled together at night. This gave her something of an independent air, a trendsetter for the chickens. As they run around their chicken run, I've seen Kirby chest bump some of the other chickens and while I couldn't tell who won the bumb, Kirby looked confident. Now as they've completed two weeks in their run, however, Kirby does not seem to be the ringleader anymore. Yesterday I saw Midnight and Kirby pecking each other's beaks. After a peck or two, Midnight stretched up tall and Kirby squatted down in what looked like a gesture of submission.

Midnight (the Black Sex-link) was, after Kirby, the chick who was most interested in life outside the cage when they were little. Open the door and Kirby would pop out followed closely by Midnight. Once in the run and coop, Midnight has really opened up. Midnight was the first, and so far the only one, to take up a post on the perch we installed inside the coop (lately, that puts her closer to the heat lamp than the others). She was so consistently interested in sitting up high that we added another perch to the run. Yertle the Turtle-like, Midnight sits on high and rules all she can see. The others look up at her and seem to wonder how she got up there. At the moment, Midnight looks like the queen of the hen house.

Peter (the Brown Well Summer) was the most timid as a chick inside the cage. She never wanted to leave and essentially had to be dragged out. She was the last to leave the cage when we transferred them to the run and coop and seemed to be nearly at a loss as to what to do in her new space. Over these two weeks, however, she has grown the most. She is now the largest (and to my eyes, the most beautiful) of all the chickens and she is growing in her confidence. Peter is the most protective of her food. If she finds something she likes, she picks it up and runs away with it (the others tend to just peck together). The other day we gave them some orange slices in the kitchen scraps. Meta Knight found a piece and followed Peter's lead by trying to run away with it. But Peter showed them all a new behavior: chase the chicken with the best food scrap. Chasing Meta Knight relentlessly, Peter gave MK no rest to savor her find. In the end, the morsel was Peter's.

Meta Knight (the Lakenvelder, named, by Sammy, after a character in the Kirby video games) was supposed to be the chick that would run the most. "This is the one that will need space to run," we were told when we got them. But Meta Knight has been a pretty timid creature. Not as afraid as Peter when they were in the cage, but definitely hanging back out of suspicion. Once in the run, Meta Knight has slowly been gaining her legs. Looking outside just now as I write this, I saw all four hens tumble out of the house and head for the far end of the run. Meta Knight sprinted the distance and won the race. Midnight (typical) flew (it is all about the height with her). Meta Knight is also the only other chicken to challenge Midnight's monopoly on the perch (at least the outside perch).

So far I'm enjoying the chickens more than I would have predicted. They are kind of like an outdoor fish tank, in that I'll sometimes look up from my work (I work on the dining room table, next to the glass doors leading to the backyard) and just watch them strutting about as I would watch fish in a tank. The boys love them and, so far, they are paying them their due attention everyday. Around 8pm every night, the boys head outside to plug in the heating lamp so the still young chicks won't freeze at night. The first thing every morning, they head outside to unplug the lamp and check their food and water. Several times during the day, they give them kitchen scraps or pulled weeds. The other morning I woke up before the boys and was there when their alarm went off. Rather than whining about getting up, both boys popped up and marched out of the room, Sammy, bringing up the rear, observing, "Time for chores!"