Yesterday's incredibly warm day was the perfect opportunity for the little chickies to meet the Big Momma so I let them roam around together a little bit. A chicken mixer, if you will. I made sure the keep a keen eye on them as I'm still not sure that A) Frida is ready for visitors due to her PTSD or b) that Frida didn't actually just kill the other chickens herself because the voices in her head told her to do so. I guess it's simply something we'll never know.
I would like to get the chicks out of the house soon because they are stinky and they peep peep all the time and I think it's better if Frida has less time alone to plot the next "accident" in the coop. It also makes it easier to think about going out of town if someone just has to chicken sit a flock outside.
Frida was pretty good about it. She made sure they knew that she was the chicken in charge. I feel a little sorry for poor Olive (the Naked Neck chicken) since the pecking order did come right down on her scrawny and very naked neck. But she seems tough.....which now has me worried that Olive is a man, baby.
All in all, I'd say it was a pretty successful chicken intermingling. The dog stood guard for each chick that realized she could get through the fence. And then he kindly whimpered and stalked her until I picked her up to put her back in the coop. He really just wants to give them a big wet kiss but I'm afraid the kiss will taste like chicken and we'll lose them in one big gulp. Once they get a little bit bigger, our killer attack dog will be frightened of them and all will go back to normal.
Remember, normal is subjective.