Chickens
Tracy and I began talking about raising chickens soon after we first met. Like many others that raise chickens, the daily access to fresh eggs that were produced from hens that we knew and took care of was the most important feature. To know what they were eating or more importantly for us, not eating, was important. But for me, it was also a connection to my past – my grandfather had raised chickens and one of my earliest memories was the chickens being butchered outside his coop. Add into that a life long fascination with birds and it is a wonder that it took this long.
Fast forward five years and many books and articles on chickens later, we felt we were ready. We had a chicken coop on the farm that would allow plenty of room for chickens. It would need a little work and lots of TLC to get it ready, but we didn’t need to start from scratch – a plus! There was an old garden patch next to the coop that could be converted to a chicken run with a little bit of work. I determined we could house upwards of 40 chickens based on best practices in the space that we had. Thankfully Tracy prevailed and we decided upon 6 baby chicks maximum to test our book smarts against the actual chickens.
This past Spring as soon as they were available for purchase, I picked out 6 fluffy little baby chickens at the local feed store and brought them home to live in our closet. They stayed in the closet under a heat lamp until they grew up and could manage on their own in the coop. In all my excitement, I never asked if they were all hens or if they were mixed when we purchased them. I had assumed mixed because they were the cheapest. As the chickens grew we were constantly observing them and had decided, based on less than authoritative articles, that we had three hens and three roosters. Fast forward a few months and I find myself asking Google if three hens could lay six eggs each day. If Google could laugh, it would have. Clearly, there is some mis-information on the internet! π
Long before our six hens were laying an egg a day, we set about to name them. Fearless and Billy Rae Cyrus are the Golden Laced Wyandottes, George and George’s Friend are the Barred Rocks and Bonnie and Clyde are the Rhode Island Reds (Bonnie is the one with the evil look in her eye). George’s Friend got her name because she was the last to be named Everyone else named their chickens fast but I was going to take my time. But of course, in talking about them, George’s friend (the one that looks like George) needed a name. I started using George’s Friend and the silliness of it took. I think she resents it; she is the one that trusts me the least.
Over the summer we have been supplementing their feed with leftover vegetables and produce from the garden that didn’t quite make it to the supper table. These chickens love their greens! The chickens have been the main beneficiaries of my ill-fated attempt to grow fall crops this year. Despite my best attempts to keep the cabbage butterflies at bay, they still were able to get around my defenses. As we are getting closer and closer to full on winter, garden produce has run out and I am currently growing wheat grass for them in the basement. My goal is to supplement their feed with greens as much as I can all winter. Between the wheat grass and leftover kale and lettuce leaves, these are probably some of the best fed chickens around.
I am generally slow at attaching to any animal, but the chickens have made it their job to make me feel appreciated. It is hard not to love them. When they see me coming through the yard carrying leftovers each morning they jockey each other for position and then stand in front of the door so I can’t get in. Even on my worse days, their antics make me smile. I initially thought the goal was providing a clean supply of fresh eggs for my family, but I have found so much more. Six chickens have found their way into my heart and are so much more than just the creator of our eggs.