How quickly babies grow up!!! The chicks aren't so little any more. Even the smallest of them is already more feather than fuzz. All are free ranging in their suburban frontier now. They are still sleeping in the rabbit hutch, but not far from roosting. Little Bertha and Shaq seem to be making a full recovery from injuries sustained in the animal attack. Yes, Little Bertha still has the eye I was worried about, but Nurse Betty, the smallest of the chicks, disappeared yesterday. I like to think she flew off with one of the hawks who have taken to visiting my yard. The neighborhood felines that know my dogs better than I do are likely candidates, as well. Whatever Nurse Betty's fate, his/her disappearance puts the chick flock down to four.

They range quite separately from the 6 old hens. I have taken to calling the old hen flock, "The Clicks." The new chicks - gender(s) still undetermined - are, "The Clucks." The Clicks and The Clucks sleep peacefully in the same tarp covered enclosure at night. I close the door of the rabbit hutch at bed-time, just in case. They share the space well enough, but I am not all that sure that The Clicks would choose to have it that way. Golda, the most militaristic of The Clicks, roosts ominously atop the rabbit hutch some nights. . . Her watchful gaze triggers flashbacks to the images of the old hens consuming the corpse of one of the chicks which fell to Hurricane Patricia. On top of The Clucks, there is still a range of nocturnal, suburban animal dwellers who have taken note of the chicks. Do raccoons, possums and armadillos like chicken for dinner? I live near enough to a creek that foxes, coyotes, skunks and several other predators are spotted on a regular basis.

During the day, the Clicks fall in for police action against The Clucks every half hour or so. Whether they are protecting the chicken feed, an easy scratch mother lode or just feeling onerey, my first indication of a police action is The Cluck flock running noisily for my protection. The Clicks are invariably on their tails, in a v-shaped formation reminiscent of migrating geese, with Golda at point, of course. She looks allot like the cartoon Roadrunner when she gets her military action on. If they can't find me, the real show begins. The Clucks are getting better and better at evading The Clicks. I am getting quicker to retreat indoors so that I can watch the show in uncensored action.

Been playing with News Headlines worthy of the story. . . Play along, if you want.

But there are signs that the flocks are integrating. It is getting more and more common to see A Click hanging out with A Cluck, as long as there are no witnesses from either flock present.

Just an update. . .