Animal Husbandry is hard. I don't know if any of the students learned it, but the teacher certainly did.
I booked an incubator and 12 chicken eggs for the term (actually, all 4 terms). My goal was to start to reconnect students with the food system, by letting them get acquainted with some real, live chickens.
The first three weeks were quiet. The incubator was set up, there wasn't much to see, but the kids kept an eye on the calendar and the upcoming Hatch Day. By Day 20, there was quite a bit of excitement, the eggs were wiggling! On Day 21, tiny chirps and peeps were heard! By the end of the day, though, the only progress was one small chip in one eggshell.
Day 22 - some chirping, no chipping. I was worried. I sent a few messages to the farm owner to find out what, if anything, I should do. She advised (that evening) that I should help the first one out. So, back to school I went, and tried to figure out - how to you help hatch an egg? Anyway, I got the top of the egg off, and left the bottom for the chick to figure out.
Day 23 - Chick 1 was still stuck to its shell. The umbilical cord hadn't twisted off. I took care of that, and put the chick into the pen under the heat lamp. There was one more egg with a chip in it. I enlarged that hole, and checked in with the farmer. By 9 am it was decided that I was opening eggs.
It was messier than I thought. There was blood. I was anxious and queasy. Four of the eggs were undeveloped, they must have died in the first week. One had been deemed unfertilized and disposed of earlier. Chick 2 was assisted from the shell and sent to the heat pen. Chick 3 was transferred to the pen later that morning. The remainder stayed, partially opened in the incubator, which I blocked off from (most of the) prying eyes. Some children see a sign that says "Do not disturb" and immediately peek to see why.
At the end of the day, I went back to the incubator. One chick was still breathing so I moved it to the pen. Another was dead - it's distended tummy hinting that it hadn't developed properly. Two more had died in their shells. I didn't look closely enough to investigate why.
So, 4 chicks came home with me this weekend. Chick 1 (Clumsy) since he couldn't quite get the hang of his feet, Chick 2 (Cheeky) who has tons of attitude, Chick 3 (Pretty), the dark one of the bunch, and still quite fragile at day's end, and Chick 4 (Tiny), the last one out, and the most delicate.
Saturday - at home. Cheeky and Pretty are up and peeking playfully at each other. Tiny is still resting in a small bowl but breathing (I put her in a shallow dish to keep the others from pestering her). Clumsy, however, didn't make it through the second night. I'm surprised, and disappointed - he had been so social, and vocal, I thought Clumsy and Cheeky were the survivors, for sure.
I don't know that I want to repeat the project. The kids are highly engaged, yes, but I'm feeling really bad. I knew that not all the eggs would hatch or all the chicks survive, but I thought we'd at least meet the average, or at best, beat the odds. I thought the chicks would hatch naturally, and I'm wondering if I've done something wrong that made it harder for them.
I guess Lesson 1 is: you can follow all the instructions, and do everything according to procedure, but Nature is still a wild card. It's a good lesson, but a hard one. But who learned it? The kids, or me?
P. S. About noon on Saturday, "Tiny" died. It had been struggling to breathe and seemed weak, but "Pretty" was in the same condition yesterday, and is quite perky today. I had held out some hope for the littlest one.
Saturday evening: Cheeky and Pretty are looking strong. Pretty is less willing to let Cheeky push her around and the peck order is in constant flux. Their vocalizations have changed - what was initially a strong CHEEP, is now a more melodic chirp. It's so flutelike, in fact, that I have tuned to a flute-based classical music station, which they seem to respond to. I hope they both make it through the night.
Sunday morning: Cheeky and Pretty are both still looking good. I hope that means they're sturdy enough to survive.
Tuesday evening: Tomorrow morning, Cheeky and Pretty head back to their roots, their mothers and their siblings. And just in time, too! Pretty's starting to move fast and she zoomed into the far wall of their pen today. Cheeky is starting to get a little lift-off too. Apparently, the lid isn't to keep the children OUT of the pen, it's to keep the chickens IN.
I've spent more time observing the chicks than most of the students, and I've been fascinated to watch their quick development. Each new skill and behaviour is amazing! I'd mentioned that on the weekend, we listened to a lot of flute music, to which I thought the chicks responded... I tried some Bach. They had a lot to say. Especially during organ music - which does features lots of flute-like trills. Having noticed their "fondness" for organ music, I put on some music after class, and went to chat in another room. Later on, the other teacher and I heard a terrible outcry from the chicks in the next room. Perplexed, we came in to see what the trouble was. Nothing. Well, the music was finished...
I wonder if life on the farm includes music lessons?
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