First Taste of Freedom

Our girls are getting big quickly--and conversely, their cardboard condo seems to be getting smaller! While there's still plenty of room for our four pullets to peck around, I have to say it's becoming a little smooshy in there.

I think I probably know how they feel. It's like when all four members of my family are trying to brush teeth in our one, pint-sized bathroom--simultaneously. And there is only one mirror.

Penelope, Serafina, Lillian, and Esther are gaining not just in size, but in attitude. And why wouldn't they? After all, for all poultry intents and purposes they're practically teenagers!

My husband has been very dedicated to building their hen house, but between Christmas, a trip to Mariposa, the rain, and the flu--well-- it's definitely still a work in progress.

So we finally had a beautiful, sunny day. I decided the girls were due for their first taste of freedom. I carried them from their condo, two at a time, to our backyard, where Mason was dedicatedly keeping an eye out for our farm cats.

Penelope and Serafina had their outdoor time first. Aren't they so much larger than before? Their feathers have really come in; they hardly have any fuzz left at all.

As they hudled together and took tentative steps through the damp grass, they looked like real chickens! Not that they weren't real before. They just look a little more wild out in the open, don't you think?

The funny thing was that they didn't like the feel of the grass on the bottoms of their feet. They kept lifting their legs to examine the ground beneath them.

"Where am I?" Serafina Sweets seemed to ask me.

Next it was Esther's turn. She stayed close by my side, cocking her head this way and that in worried confusion.

Lillian, now the largest and heaviest of the four, at first seemed a little more confident than the others. She scratched a bit at the earth, and even clipped off the top of one blade of grass with her beak before she suddenly had a change of heart...

...and ran up one arm to perch on my shoulder!

You know what this means?
My chickens are chicken!

I guess I'll have to schedule some more supervised backyard playtime for these gals before they make that big leap from dining room digs to the great outdoors.