The chicks turned seven weeks old on Thursday, and I breathed a sigh of relief. They were not only still alive, but thriving. I had read weeks ago on a forum someone's tale of their chicks up and dying at seven weeks and they did not know why. This sent me at high speed into dark imaginings. I then and there quit reading on chicken forums.

Our little Princess Puny, special needs chick. At about half the size of the rest in the flock, she nevertheless continues to grow, at her own pace and time. She uses both legs now, walks and runs around the extended area of the chicken run, although she does not perch. Managing the ramp to the hen house was a slow challenge for her. She finds it best to fly up and down. She remains smaller and, well, puny, but there has been no picking on her by the other chicks at all. For a time one of the Buff Orpingtons seems to be a companion by her side.

A better picture of Princess Puny and her Big Sister, to show their differences in size, as well as the shape of their heads. Puny's head remains a round ball.