Chicks!

I piddled around and waited too long to order chicks. Sold out!
I should have realized, after hearing stories about seeds flying off the shelves in this poor economy, that the same would apply to small livestock.
But we found mystery chicks from the Cullman Tractor Supply store.

I think we have Leghorns, a Rhode Island Red, and Dominiques. Maybe.

They are cute, at any rate, although I suspect that a high percentage may be cockerels.

Fuzzy.

Wuzzy.
We put them in a pen outside one sunny day, to soak in sun and eat bugs and scratch around, but mostly they acted like it was just another ploy to try to kill them.

The female Muscovy was verrrry interested. Poor thing wants to be a mama so bad, but is too dumb to figure out how to sit on eggs correctly. Maybe we should have brought her some ducklings.
This is how much they grew in just a week:

That one on the far left and one other black chick have tails already, which says "male" to me, but I pray I'm wrong.

Look Ma, real feathers!
To buy the chicks, we had to sign a paper: name, address, phone, driver's license number! I considered yelling "No NAIS!" and running out the door, but I didn't. I hadn't felt Big Brother peering over my shoulder like that since we tried to drive up to view the local dam, and had our plates and license numbers recorded.
Lord knows what sort of watch list I'll be put on for buying chicks, visiting a dam, and buying Sudafed.

"I'll be watching you."