Yesterday felt like Spring. It was warm, sunny, and the first day of the animal swap. I was excited, it almost felt like Christmas. I had the brooder all ready to go, visions of ducklings dancing in my head.
Dave took our daughter to dance class, and the boys and I headed out. When we got to the animal swap, there were cars in almost every parking spot, their trunks popped open. The parking lot was full of the peepings of baby chicks, bleating goats, turkeys flapping their wings and pacing in their cages, rabbits munching on alfalfa and carrots. We started walking around, looking for the bright yellow or brown heads of baby ducks, and found nothing. I asked around, and everyone said next week.
I tried not to feel too disappointed. Next week is not that far off, and my goslings should be arriving on Wednesday. The boys and I stopped to look in one last box of chicks before heading home empty handed. Inside were some of the friendliest little chicks I had seen. The young man said they were Easter Eggers and Sebrights. At this point my oldest son begged for more chickens. I looked at him, and I looked in the box, and I said, “I’ll take three Easter Eggers.”
My son and I had promised Dave ducklings only – no chicks. Even though I should have gotten Dave a nice bottle of Scotch to help sweeten him up to having three different types of poultry living in our living room for the next few months, I opted for a bag of black licorice. He was kind of grumbly when he got home, but pretty soon he was holding the little birds, and deciding to name them Old Crow, Hennessy, and Collins after the whiskeys I should have brought home, instead of more chickens.