Dad finally decided that it would be ok to get an incubator and try hatching out some chicks this spring. Well, actually, Mom wanted it to be a project for the younger three because they were studying birds for science.
However, somehow along the way it morphed into my project. Which I am just fine with, I've been wanting to rebuild my flock since that ill-fated morning of the dog massacre. I say the flock is mine, because I've been the one taking care of them. Dad just provides the finances and facility. I take care of them morning and night. I go and retrieve the food. I collect the eggs. I clean everything out. I make the decisions about how I take care of them. The only real requirement is that they all stay in the pasture.
I've got fourteen chicken eggs and one duck egg in the incubator, and when I candled them a couple days ago, they all seemed to be thriving.
Of course, if they all end up hatching and surviving the first few weeks or month, we will not…