As for the chick’s development, no matter how we might speculate on the outcome, none of the babes seem to be sporting rooster characteristics such as aggression, larger size and comb or spurs. Could we have chanced on six layers?
Until I sat with them I considered the gushing reports I read on line of their entertainment qualities to be a bit on the “I CAN HAS CHEEZEBURGER” side. There are many interlacing patterns to the behavior of these motherless orphans who I seem to have taken under my wing as they imprint on me with exploratory pecks and perchings and poopings upon. My flute sends them running to the farthest corner. The most interesting aspect to date is the seemingly simultaneous, unanimous mood changes from all getting together to preen, dust-bathe, sleep, bug pick each other, drink, or eat from the feeder to each putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the others to peck and scratch on their own turf. The game is on if any one of them finds a bug big enough to be seen or stolen, which they seem more adept at than finding them in the first place. If there has ever been a classroom for studying genetic memory, this is one of them. I’m a happy man.