Two weeks on and all five of our little buggers are doing very nicely. They're still in the attic, under a warm infra-red light in a box with sawdust in the bottom. Don't know why, but somehow everything within a radius of about two feet is now covered with a fine yellow dust. Whether this comes from the sawdust, the feed or the chicks themselves is uncertain. What I do know is it makes me nostalgic for the builder-days (not).
Here's Alpha - the first of the chicks to hatch and by far the most advanced. He acts like a boy, so lets call him he, although his gender will be unclear until he's a few months old when, if he's a boy he'll start to get all rambunctious, pick scraps with his father and try to roger his aunts. Remind you of someone you know? Call the Samaritans, there must be a teenager in your life.
Alpha's comb has started to appear, and his wing feathers have started to grow, which means he can flutter short distances. I keep hearing 'pling-pling' as one or other of them have a little hop and bang their heads on the lamp. I'm just waiting to come in one night and find them nestling in my bed, having escaped their box. In the absence of my husband and children, I'd prefer the cat, but they're all banned from the house - while they seem singularly uninterested in the mice, these lovely fluttery yellow things would make excellent playmates.
Something that hasn't changed though. If I take Alpha out of the box and put him in the middle of the attic floor, he still comes over all agoraphobic, being rooted to the spot the entire two minutes of this photo-shoot.