Marshmallow

This is the first in, what I plan to be, a series of posts introducing you to the animals who call our 3.5 acres home.

Before we even signed the paperwork to close on "The Farm" Chris had procured us some chickens. We were given a few by a man who wasn't going to be able to care for them anymore, and we bought a handful from a local petting zoo when they shut down for the year. It took awhile, but eventually the two flocks integrated and got along.

Fast forward to this week. All 15 of them (maybe it's 17...I can never remember) have spent the past few cold and snowy weeks in their coop instead out out in their yard. Apparently, chickens get bored when they're not able to get outside to scratch and run. Instead of doing something productive with their boredom, like cleaning or reading a book, my chickens have decided to incessantly peck one of their coop mates. As it turns out, chickens are attracted to the color red, an unfortunate thing for the chicken whose head is bleeding from being constantly pecked. 

So, now Marshmallow (Samantha named her that when she found out we had a sick chicken) is beginning her road to recovery in a dog kennel inside the chicken coop. I'll post an update on the patient's status when her condition changes. This farm life is not for the faint of heart, or weak chickens.