The keets will be two weeks old tomorrow, and they’re rapidly growing out of their cuteness. They’ve sprouted feathers and have been experimenting with flapping across their brooder box. I need to start building that coop now!

Last week I sold half of the keets to a nice young woman down the road who is building an organic farm. I got such a response from my CraigsList ad that I am think of becoming a keet broker.

The remaining babies, sixteen in all, are still fun to watch particularly when I give them bugs. That’s a good sign, as I got them to control the bug population at my farm. They are supposed to go crazy for white millet, so much so that it’s recommended as a training/taming aid, but my birds don’t give a hoot for the little seeds. Instead, their drug of choice, which I just discovered yesterday, is grass! They love the little seedheads and the only time they willingly approach me is when I am holding a stalk out to them. Otherwise, they are very flighty and not at all as docile as chickens.

Tonight when I was cleaning their cage, I moved them all to a smaller box in which they roiled and cried and flapped about on their new wings. I left the room to refill their feeder and when I returned one keet was wildly calling with a shrill alarm. Much to my surprise I found that this little one had flown the box and was strutting about the kitchen floor.

I scooped her up and dubbed her Bathsheba, she who dared escape the madding crowd. Away from the group think of her flockmates, she was tame and even perched on my finger like a parakeet. Can you imagine how uncomfortable it must be to have all those little pin feathers poking up all over your body?