It's that time of year again. Time to start the chick project. This time we decided to get started a little earlier so that the chicks would be a bit bigger by fair time. So Tuesday we went and picked out 6 chicks: 2 black ones, 1 white one, 2 yellow ones, and 1 brownish/gray one (they have official breed names, but why go into details?) Daniel set to naming them right away, starting with his favorite: the little white fluffy one. He dubbed it "Snow", Timmy liked "Tiny", and so it's name became Tiny Snow. I could tell right away that this bird would grow to be a favorite and thus, probably avoid future butchering. The other ones got names too, like, "Dark" and "Sunshine", etc.
Today while Timmy was at school I started some household chores. There were a few things I wanted to change in the chicks' bin. It seemed to me that the light was shining too warm. I moved it and found a way to make the bin have a "warm side and a "cool" side. The chicks' water needed changed out because they keep getting their pine shavings into it. I decided that this needed fixing since it didn't seem to take them more than 5 minutes to make it dirty again. I found a spare Tupperware lid to set under the water container to lift it up off of the ground.
I set the water down into the chicks' bin and noticed that the Tupperware lid contraption was a bit wobbly. I wiggled and twisted it around, and pushed it down into the pine shavings to ensure that it was stable enough to not be knocked over by thirsty chicks.
Having fixed all that was wrong with the chicks' home,I went about my day cleaning. I eventually found myself back over by the chicks. I happened to notice that there were only five instead of six. I immediately called Daniel into the room and asked him if he had been playing with them. He said, "no". I told him that one of the chicks was missing, so if he was playing with them, that's fine, but I needed to know so I could find it. He asked which one was missing, and I told him it was his favorite, Tiny Snow. I told him how much I knew he liked that chick, so if he had wanted to hold it, that was okay, but we needed to find it, so please tell me if he took it out. He insisted that he hadn't. I proceeded to search around the room, thinking perhaps the little chick had managed to flutter its way out of the bin. Something else that would need fixing, some kind of screen over the top so they couldn't get out. I listened for little chick peeps. Nothing......and then it dawned on me: Wobbly water container, the smooshing, and the turning, and the.....I picked it up, and sure enough, there was Tiny Melted Snow.
This might have been the ideal time to teach Daniel a little about life and death. I would like to say that I chose not to because I would like to shield my children from as much unnecessary emotional pain as I can. In reality I met with Rick at the chick store to sneak a new, living Tiny Snow, back to our house because I didn't want to admit my guilt. Rick's coworkers have already dubbed me the "Chickslayer".
Life and love, and, well, death began in a garden too I suppose.
