This morning I got up and checked on the chicks to find that their box was empty. We have it set up in the gameroom next to the incubator.
My first thought was that the cat had gotten them, but I realized that everything was too orderly for that to have happened. The waterer was still upright. There were no shavings on the carpet. . .no blood.
I couldn't think where else they could be, though, and be as warm and safe as their box.
I hated to wake up Emma, but I had to find out if she had put the chicks in her room. I opened her door expecting to find another box and lamp set up by her bed. There was not one, and I began to worry.
"Emma," I said.
"Emma," I said again, a little more urgently.
"What?" she answered drowsily.
"I can't find the chicks," I said.
"I have them," she answered.
"Where?" I asked, looking around her bed.
"Right here," she said, patting the top of her nightshirt, where I could barely make out a peculiar bulge.
"You have all four chicks in there?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered.
"How did you sleep like that?" I questioned.
"Very easily," she said.