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We have 18 chickens. They're just now turning 8 weeks old, and they just got to go outside for the first time.
I feel like the parent of a teenager with a freshly-minted driver's license.
Every time they hop into the grass from their cozy coop, I feel like saying “be careful! Watch out! Don't get into trouble!”
And when they protest my over-protective nature, I want to say “it's not YOU I'm worried about! It's other people. It's all those predators out there!”
I just don't want them to get into any trouble. I don't want any evil predators (raccoons, hawks, Tyson) asking them to take drugs (er, chicken crack) to the bus depot (name that movie) when they go downtown.
Here are a few pics from one of the late bloomers' first ventures into the wilderness (ie fenced-in pen). It was really cool to see the realization dawn on this little bugger that the grass was full of things to peck!
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