Newly Hatched Chicks
Shipped Via USPS
Last time, I explained how we settled on chickens as our family pets. That was a long time ago, by our family standards; maybe even more than a year ago. I have found that there is something peaceful about having chickens.
The chickens are never bored or anxious. They are quiet, not very vocal, and most people don't even know they exist. Plus, they're kosher, and they lay eggs. And there's nothing like stepping out of the house and seeing a chicken peck at a piece of watermelon to make me stop worrying.
If you love having pet chickens, you will find that having pet chickens makes you want more pet chickens. One day, I announced that I was going to buy two baby chicks and raise them. The wonderful Cheryl is a friend of ours, and she's been incredibly forgiving of our kids. Cheryl Denz runs Terra Optima, an educational farm, and we consult her on all things related to farming.1
So I asked Cheryl where one buys two chicks, and she told me where she gets her chicks. It turns out that the minimum number of chicks you can order is 4. So instead of two, I ordered four. This is known as chicken math.
The chicks themselves were three dollars each. For an extra ten dollars each, a responsible pet owner like me can get them vaccinated. For a total of just $90, they were shipping four little chicks to the post office closest to our home, fully vaccinated and guaranteed to be 90% female. Guaranteed.
The hatch date was March 8th, and on March 7th, an email informed me that they had hatched and were being shipped by USPS. I was worried about my four little newborn chicks, all by themselves in a huge USPS truck. I called the hatchery. "Sally" picked up the phone.
I thoroughly enjoyed my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to say the following sentence: "Hi. It's Isha Yiras Hashem. We got an email saying the chicks had hatched, and I wanted to check in with you."
Sally, brusquely: They already shipped
Me, less confident than she is about this: Um, this is the first time we've ordered chicks. I am concerned about their well-being. I just wanted to make sure they are okay.
Sally, sounding bored: You need to keep them warm and fed. Expect to hear from the post office either tomorrow or Friday.
Me, bravely forging on: How do you send live chicks to the post office?
Sally: USPS, of course.
Me, trying to mirror her matter-of-fact style: Of course. USPS. Of course. Um. How do you feed them in transit?
Sally, who clearly knows much more than I do about hatching chicks: the chick sustains itself from the yolk when they hatch, so they can go two days without food and water. This is how we can send you one day old chicks.
Me, feeling like a good mother hen: Have they been vaccinated?
Sally: Only if you asked us to.
Me: I did, because I am a very responsible pet owner. Remind me what they were vaccinated against?
Sally: Marek's disease.2
Me, not quite brave enough to ask what Marek's disease is: Sorry for taking your time.
Sally: It's okay.
Me: Let me think if I have any other questions before you hang up. We only have experience with adult chickens so far.
Sally: (waiting for me to speak)
Me: What if it's cold or hot on the way?
Sally: We check the weather and get the boxes ready to ship.
Me: How?
Sally: We print weather maps to see the likely path of the delivery trucks, and we provide warming packs or insulation rings, as needed. We take good care of the chicks in transit.
Me: Okay. What if the people at the post office refuse to give them to us?
Sally: As far as I know, no one has ever had a problem with the Post Office.
(I was skeptical. You would also be skeptical, if you have ever been to the post office, even though they do their very best.)
Me: That sounds very convenient. So they'll call me at the post office, and I'll pick up these chicks.
Sally: Yes.
Me: Maybe this is just my anxiety speaking, but do they generally survive into adulthood?
Sally: They are easy to care for, so mortality shouldn't be an issue.
(I get the hint. They should be fine, if I am not completely incompetent.)
Me: Is there any other question that I should be asking that I haven't thought of?
Sally, relieved that our phone call is coming to an end: It's a good idea to call and give the post office a heads up.
Me: Thank you very much.
Sally: (click)
This is her Facebook page, where she writes a daily poem, usually at around 4 am, before she goes off to the barn.
https://m.facebook.com/TerraOptimaFarm
Google says this is a type of chicken herpes.
Also, seriously, the part where you forged ahead asking the questions you felt you needed to ask in the face of social pressure to "wind down" the conversation and end the call ...that's something that's been awfully hard for me and still maybe is. So props to you!
Besides, it yielded this really cooool fact about their system and procedures: "We print weather maps to see the likely path of the delivery trucks, and we provide warming packs or insulation rings, as needed. We take good care of the chicks in transit."
And also the catch-all question at the end! (You had an expert on the line, after all!)
I feel like there are a lot of times in life where the person "on the other end" in a convo has information I need, and I don't know how to target it, and they don't know what information would most help me (doctors, for example!). And it really requires "conducting an interview" like this, persisting & being bold in the face of discouragement, and asking questions that make you look a bit weird till you maybe get to that point of mutual recognition: "Ahhh, here is what she needs to know."
I like how "This is chicken math" foreshadowed the later: "..they were shipping four little chicks... fully vaccinated and guaranteed to be 90% female. Guaranteed. "