What a morning! When I picked up the chicks the box was sealed shut so I couldn’t check them until I got home. It was loud and chirpy, so I assumed all the chicks were doing great. I opened the box (without the kids home, thankfully) and saw what appeared to be a dead chick lying on her side, eyes closed. The other three chicks looked great, standing upright and perky. I’m sure they were very relieved to be out of the darkness. I immediately picked up the chick who appeared to have passed away. Feelings of sadness washed over me and thoughts of how to dispose of her remains went through my head. She was limp in my hands and I noticed she was black with golden speckles. My Golden Laced Wyandotte… my heart sunk because I was thinking last evening about how excited I was to see her laced feathers come in. I thought if any chick had problems it would be my Silkie Bantam since they’re so tiny. The blue color in the link is what we received, and I’m thrilled! I was most concerned about her, but she seems to be fine and is the most spunky of the bunch.
I held the limp chick and stroked her body a while. Her wing trembled and something in me just flipped out- “She’s alive, she’s alive!” I shouted. I ran to the sink and put her beak under the running water. She opened it up for one drink- hope! I had some hope for her, but she wouldn’t move at all and would not take another sip of water. I rushed her to the cage with the heat lamp and sat her there with the other chicks. About twenty minutes went by and I saw no improvement. She just laid there, sideways with legs straight out behind her. I thought for sure it might be too late. I prayed and talked to her a while, then did some set up with the older chicks’ cage. At about 30 minutes I noticed her head was upright and she was looking around. She was also sitting more centered and her body was more puffed out and round. She looked like a resting chick, that was all. The Silkie came by and gave her a peck on the head and she chirped, and then tried walking (a bit shaky at it). That was when I knew she would make it. I went from deep sadness to elation in just 30 minutes.
I’d always planned to name her Dot. For two reasons- 1) she’s a Wyandotte (named after a native Indian tribe I’m related to), and 2) Dot was my maternal grandmother’s middle name. Granted, she despised her middle name, but I always thought it was cute- Wilma Dot. I’ve no doubt she’s smiling about it now.
river of love urban farmstead 
