Chicks are born with down, not feathers; the feathers emerge in the first six weeks of life, but not all at the same time; there’s a procedure.

Much as children gain adult teeth in a specific order, chicks get their primary wing feathers first, then their secondary wing feathers, then shoulder feathers, breast feathers, butt feathers (I’m thinking that’s got to itch), and, finally, head feathers.

The emerging feathers push out the existing down, leaving the chicks with a fuzzy halo of almost-dearly-departed down hanging by a thread, then flying into the air until you could choke from it all.

2.0 are now getting their head feathers, and they look like the rumpled, rambunctious children they are. As the down is pushed out by the new feathers, they look like kids who’ve gotten into their older brother’s hair product, and laid it on with a heavy hand.

I’ll let the pictures do the rest of the talking:


4 thoughts on “Bedhead.

  1. I have never seen it fly! lol!

    They are adorable, even in this awkward age. My Easter Eggers looked the weirdest. With all those pinfeathers and being beardless for a week.

    Guess what I picked up last night?

    Two goslings! <3 you wouldn't believe the cuteness!!

    Also, what have you been doing to tame these girls? I have tried something new with my chicks. I do not pick them up, but I pet them from the side, and let them get used to my hand. Now they will roost on me, run to greet me and are not afraid at all. (they are 1 week 4 days) Wish I had of known this with my last batch! Guess it's a bit harder with a broody telling them the hand will eat them. :P

    • I saw goslings at Agway last year and near died from it. The neon orange/pink feet! Ack!! I don’t think water birds are for me, though. She said.

      In answer to your question, I have been doing absolutely nothing. I may pay dearly for this, but I’m testing a theory. I watched 1.0 go through so many moods, and, in the end, their desire for treats and sex won out. I am talking to 2.0, sitting with them, letting them get used to my voice and my presence. They are very shy of me, especially as our physical contact amounts to me chasing them and abducting them from coop to outside crate several times a week. Now, as I do so, I am talking to them and cuddling them, and some of them are quite calm once caught, but some are screaming as though they’re on the way to the abattoir.

      We shall see. I don’t seem to have the time or the inclination to snuggle them the way I did last year. Perhaps it;s because they’re not in the house this year; perhaps it’s because I’m just jaded.

      The bravest of them is….GIDGET! She is no longer Gidget the Midget (although she is still the smallest by a bit), she is now Gidget the Brave!

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