Yesterday, I marveled at how much the chickens ate. We got them out of their shipping container, and they proceeded to eat, drink, eat, poop, and eat some more. All. Day. Long. Like newborn humans, I assumed they would completely pass out on their faces at some point. Not so, not these super-bionic chicks.
It must have caught up with them, though, because today I marveled at how much they slept. I actually checked to be sure they were breathing first thing this morning. They were splayed out across the paper toweling, completely dead to the world.
I freshened their water and food, and they perked right up when I checked their behinds for pasting up. They really don’t like being grabbed, flipped upside down, and examined in the nether regions. But who does, really?
They snacked a little…
Did the chicken sprinter stretch (officially their newest most adorable move, taking the place of “drinking water”)…
And promptly fell back to sleep (which, for the record, is also ranked pretty highly in the list of “cute things baby chicks do”).
And then… they slept some more.