From Disappointment to a Story of Legacy
Out of 19 eggs incubated, 5 hatched. Those 5 babies are doing great.
But I was so disappointed with that hatch rate.
I have never had one so low.
With this last batch, I was hoping for at least 15 chicks to grow out and either butcher or sell.
I got 5.
But from this disappointment came one truly remarkable surprise. One that caught me completely off guard.
Hatch day is supposed to be Day 21 but can take up to Day 25.
I waited.
The other eggs all hatched by Day 20.
And waited.
I candled at 21 days and had 2 viable eggs left. Both brown.
And waited…
At 23 days, one had finally pipped (cracked the shell), the other had not.
Once there was enough of an opening in the shell that the baby could breathe well, I took out the unpipped egg to candle again. It was dead.
This pipped egg was my last hope. If it finished hatching, I would have 5 chicks out of the 19 I had hoped for.
I waited.
The very last chick to hatch was a fighter.
For 37 1/2 hours this baby struggled and slept, struggled and slept. Gradually opening the egg, bit by bit.
It was agony watching. And waiting.
But helping a chick to hatch often does more harm than good and can actually kill an otherwise healthy baby.
So, I waited.
And cheered it on. “Come on, baby. You got this!”
FINALLY. It split the egg in half. I could see the chick. The only yellow chick in the bunch. Little champion. Wet and exhausted.
In its yellow it had a black feather here and there. And then I noticed a couple of red feathers too. Just one or two or three. Weird. What would this baby look like once it feathered out? I couldn’t wait to see!
So much of the fun of hatching and growing out chicks is watching them feather out and seeing what patterns emerge. Solid brown becomes intricate patterns of lace or penciling. Grey and yellow becomes blue with flashes of white.
My long-time friend, Mandy (we’ve been friends since middle school), also raises chickens and is much more educated in genetics than I am. I messaged her about this little chick with the fascinating feathers.
She was also intrigued and asked if I had a blue or a blue splash mom. A splash is a solid color with single black feathers here and there. I told her I had two, but one laid olive eggs so couldn’t be the mom.
Now, the other blue mom possibility was a lovely little lady named Legacy. Named so because she was the only surviving chick from one of my favorite roosters from years ago. He was a stunning Swedish Flower Hen rooster (Yes, Swedish Flower Hen is the breed. Yes, it’s weird.) and his name was Merlin.
Merlin was a spectacular guy in every way. He was sweet and would fall asleep in my lap. He was so loving to his ladies; he would put a wing over them at night as they slept. AND he was calico colored.
I lost him almost 2 years ago to a raccoon.
As soon as Mandy got me thinking about Legacy being this chick’s mom, Merlin being its grandpa… I almost cried.
It would explain those crazy colored feathers.
I told her, if this baby feathers out into a calico, I don’t care if it’s a cockerel or a pullet. It’s not going ANYWHERE!
Even though I raise chickens for a utilitarian purpose, and I am involved in that process, I still love my birds. All of them.
They cost me much more money than I make from them. But they’re worth every penny.
They nourish our bodies and my soul.
Now and then one strikes a chord with me, makes a connection, touches my heart in a special way, and changes its future. This tiny yellow splash chick will have a home here for life.
Chickens. They bring me so much joy. They help to feed my family. And I can’t imagine my life without them.
