Charlie has been out in the hen house with her sisters since yesterday afternoon. This morning I went out to check on everyone and while Charlie was down on the floor of the coop (as opposed to roosting up high near the roof where no one can get her) she was still wedged behind the water can trying to keep away from the others.
When all of the chickens are together I can see that Charlie is still being pecked but she no longer has injuries that are drawing blood. Baby steps.
It’s fair to say that the transition is going well.
But she’s still a house chicken.
So this morning when I checked on the flock, I took Charlie out and put her on the grass. Immediately she started following the path right to our back door.
Girl knows what she wants.
As I write this, I can hear Charlie rooting around the feed-dish and drinking water from Pippin’s bowl. Charlie is making herself at home.
It’s a rainy day, we’re all inside writing, reading, or listening to the radio. Having a chicken in the house, if only for a few hours, just kind of completes the picture of good living around here.
