I guess we're getting old.
A new habit we've developed is dragging the lawn chairs out into the front yard and sitting with a cold drink while watching the chickens.
We got 4 chickens last year and put them in a dog pen that's about 10 by 12 feet. They did pretty well and we fell in love with them. I'd let them out to play often. A portion of our front yard has a 4 foot split-rail fence with chain link on it. We would put the dogs inside the house and let the chickens roam out in the front yard. Soon they got big enough - or brave enough that they would fly up on the fence and then go wandering out into the pasture. That was ok. They'd usually go to the next door neighbor's pasture and look for bugs in the horse paddies.
We tried chasing them at first, to get them back into the pen. I'm sure we looked ridiculous because it's just plain impossible to catch a chicken barehanded. I'm sure that's why tools were first invented. Man (and woman) tires quickly when chasing wily animals. Especially if they have more legs or wings than the woman (or man).
After a while we realized that if you just scare them, they'll run back into their coop area if you let them know where it is. Then they got in the habit of following me when I let them out. It was like Pied Piper when I let them out. "Hey chickie, chickie, brruup, brruup." They'd follow me anywhere. Then when it was time to go home, just run at them and they'd run away to the safety of their chicken prison.
I learned not to let them roam alone when I gathered the 4 chickens one night to bed them down. Only 3 showed up. I went looking and found feathers and signs of scuffle just a few yards into the woods that are behind our house. Must've been a neighborhood dog or feral cat or something. So we watched them closely after that.
Then one day Ms Donna let Duke the dog out of the fence out front. That seemed like a safe thing do to because she often did that and he would just hang with her. Not that day. He knew where those chickens were. He FLEW around the house and the chickies scattered and I yelled and grabbed at him but not before he really screwed one of them up. I sent Ms Donna to the store and put a quick and sad end to that chicken. She wasn't real torn up and would've been perfect to cook but Ms Donna will not even consider eating a pet. I attempted to explain how the chickens she so willingly buys in the store are much less desireable than these free-range ones we have. But that didn't work. Still doesn't. We can never eat the chickens. The eggs are different. We can eat the eggs. We can't eat the chickens but she doesn't mind if we steal their children.
A new habit we've developed is dragging the lawn chairs out into the front yard and sitting with a cold drink while watching the chickens.
We got 4 chickens last year and put them in a dog pen that's about 10 by 12 feet. They did pretty well and we fell in love with them. I'd let them out to play often. A portion of our front yard has a 4 foot split-rail fence with chain link on it. We would put the dogs inside the house and let the chickens roam out in the front yard. Soon they got big enough - or brave enough that they would fly up on the fence and then go wandering out into the pasture. That was ok. They'd usually go to the next door neighbor's pasture and look for bugs in the horse paddies.
We tried chasing them at first, to get them back into the pen. I'm sure we looked ridiculous because it's just plain impossible to catch a chicken barehanded. I'm sure that's why tools were first invented. Man (and woman) tires quickly when chasing wily animals. Especially if they have more legs or wings than the woman (or man).
After a while we realized that if you just scare them, they'll run back into their coop area if you let them know where it is. Then they got in the habit of following me when I let them out. It was like Pied Piper when I let them out. "Hey chickie, chickie, brruup, brruup." They'd follow me anywhere. Then when it was time to go home, just run at them and they'd run away to the safety of their chicken prison.
I learned not to let them roam alone when I gathered the 4 chickens one night to bed them down. Only 3 showed up. I went looking and found feathers and signs of scuffle just a few yards into the woods that are behind our house. Must've been a neighborhood dog or feral cat or something. So we watched them closely after that.
Then one day Ms Donna let Duke the dog out of the fence out front. That seemed like a safe thing do to because she often did that and he would just hang with her. Not that day. He knew where those chickens were. He FLEW around the house and the chickies scattered and I yelled and grabbed at him but not before he really screwed one of them up. I sent Ms Donna to the store and put a quick and sad end to that chicken. She wasn't real torn up and would've been perfect to cook but Ms Donna will not even consider eating a pet. I attempted to explain how the chickens she so willingly buys in the store are much less desireable than these free-range ones we have. But that didn't work. Still doesn't. We can never eat the chickens. The eggs are different. We can eat the eggs. We can't eat the chickens but she doesn't mind if we steal their children.
So then there were only 2 chickies. Lucy and Ethel.
We had them for quite a long time but one day the dogs broke out and knocked the door to the coop open and there were chicken pieces and feathers all over the pasture by the time we got home. It was really sad.
Only a couple of weeks after the chickens were gone the doglings began coming home with ticks on them. Apparently the chickens ate all the ticks. They also wandered around my vegetable garden eating bugs from there. They pooped in there too, which is very good for vegetable gardens.
So we've been talking about re-chickening for some time now. I got some welded-wire fence and some poles and made a fenced area about 100 feet long and 12 feet wide. Buried the fencing about a foot in the ground so that the doglings can't dig under it. Put a top on it of chicken wire so the owls and hawks can't swoop inside and I put the old dog run (the one we used to use as the chicken area before) onto the end of it so that I could have a decent door. Now we have a real fine chicken village. We got 6 of them. Within days the first one died because I let them keep the cardboard box I transported them home in. Left it in the cage area so that they could play with it. But chickens are stupid. The flaps were turned inside of the box and apparently this one poor hen got inside and couldn't figure how to get out. A couple of hundred degree days later and she was a goner. I watch them more closely now.
Now we sit in the yard and watch chickens. We "bruup, bruup, bok, bok bok" at them. We "Chickie, chickie chickie" at them. We watch as they chicken-dance with the new grass or broccoli, cabbage, bean plants, table scraps that I put in there. Watch as one grabs a grasshopper and is chased by the others. We watch and laugh as they run with wings stretched back, at each other and bump chests like football players. Watch them get all excited when we give them watermelon or bananas or kiwis. We watch as the alphas spread wings and chase the timid ones around and then reverse roles while the timid ones become alphas. They are so cool to watch and laugh at. They get real personable. You can talk with them. You can pet them.
No roosters. Hell no. Roosters beat the crap out of the poor hens just to get laid. There's a rooster about a quarter mile away from us and that damnit creature crows all the time. We listen to him and thank goodness that we didn't bring that noise up to our bedroom window by getting roosters of our own.
We had them for quite a long time but one day the dogs broke out and knocked the door to the coop open and there were chicken pieces and feathers all over the pasture by the time we got home. It was really sad.
Only a couple of weeks after the chickens were gone the doglings began coming home with ticks on them. Apparently the chickens ate all the ticks. They also wandered around my vegetable garden eating bugs from there. They pooped in there too, which is very good for vegetable gardens.
So we've been talking about re-chickening for some time now. I got some welded-wire fence and some poles and made a fenced area about 100 feet long and 12 feet wide. Buried the fencing about a foot in the ground so that the doglings can't dig under it. Put a top on it of chicken wire so the owls and hawks can't swoop inside and I put the old dog run (the one we used to use as the chicken area before) onto the end of it so that I could have a decent door. Now we have a real fine chicken village. We got 6 of them. Within days the first one died because I let them keep the cardboard box I transported them home in. Left it in the cage area so that they could play with it. But chickens are stupid. The flaps were turned inside of the box and apparently this one poor hen got inside and couldn't figure how to get out. A couple of hundred degree days later and she was a goner. I watch them more closely now.
Now we sit in the yard and watch chickens. We "bruup, bruup, bok, bok bok" at them. We "Chickie, chickie chickie" at them. We watch as they chicken-dance with the new grass or broccoli, cabbage, bean plants, table scraps that I put in there. Watch as one grabs a grasshopper and is chased by the others. We watch and laugh as they run with wings stretched back, at each other and bump chests like football players. Watch them get all excited when we give them watermelon or bananas or kiwis. We watch as the alphas spread wings and chase the timid ones around and then reverse roles while the timid ones become alphas. They are so cool to watch and laugh at. They get real personable. You can talk with them. You can pet them.
No roosters. Hell no. Roosters beat the crap out of the poor hens just to get laid. There's a rooster about a quarter mile away from us and that damnit creature crows all the time. We listen to him and thank goodness that we didn't bring that noise up to our bedroom window by getting roosters of our own.
We should start getting eggs soon.
That's when it's really fine to have chickens.
That's when it's really fine to have chickens.
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