The first time I went to my parents to visit the chicks, my mom already had a problem identified.
We had a "picker". This sweet little girl, was picking the eyes of other chicks.
After lots of research, it was determined the best thing to do was to separate her. She would outgrow it.
So, wire fencing was put in.
The other girls with injured eyes all healed, thankfully.
Mom emailed this picture later. No improvements. I think the subject of the email was "Bad Girl".
Something along those lines anyway.
So, I went and picked her up and brought her back to the farm.
We had a broody hen, I read that "sometimes" a broody hen will adopt a chick.
That didn't work.
I became the mother hen. Little one spent some time with me out cleaning up the raspberry patch.
We didn't have to worry about her running away. She wouldn't think of leaving my side. Or neck.
Then we did what we should have never done.
We named her. I named her. I named her Sally.
Meet our newest pet, Sally.