Our Little Champ
It is said that older parents tend to have smarter children. I don’t know why, or if it’s even true. It might be that older parents simply have less energy. Perhaps their IQs drop so low from exhaustion that the child just seems smarter. Lord only knows how many IQ points I’ve lost simply raising a baby peachick…
Four days ago, Reggie’s fertile eggs hatched — yes, very late in the season. Reggie is a rescued yearling (by a great family from Carbondale), and it was surprising that she sat on eggs at all. Her instinct was correct to sit on the eggs, but the tragedy struck when they hatched — one baby (the smallest) survived.
Anyway, waking up every 2 hours to hand feed our little champ electrolytes and oxygen (yep, the bay fits completely under Hunter’s oxygen mask) in the 100 degree incubator (upstairs bathroom) has me so exhausted I think I’ve forgotten how spell IQ.
I salute every mom in the universe.
This is one of the fightingest spirits I’ve seen in a peachick. We’re up to 5 hour intervals and its legs are starting to work, and feet are starting to support him/her.
With luck, the baby will survive and be reintroduced to the rest of the birds when its old enough that the confused mom can’t hurt it.
Sexing a chick is difficult — but we should know in a few months. If it’s a boy we name him Champ. If it’s a girl, let’s name her Champ.
Welcome to the world, Little Champ.
Your very proud, tired friend, chicking in from Owl Farm,
Anita Thompson
