Chicken 101

I am not an animal person.  At all.

 

However, I have a son that thinks it's a travesty not to have a pet.  So, we try.

 

We bought six adorable fuzzballs in March and decided to give it a go.  We don't know much about being chicken farmers.  But here in our neighborhood, we have a surprising amount of seasoned chicken-ers that have helped us get the hang of things.

 

 

One of the first things we were told?  Do not name the chicks.  It makes it a whole lot harder to visualize eating them when the dinner on your plate has a name, and used to roam your backyard.

 

Popper, Twitch, Siren, Fuzzy, Mipsy and Foghorn have sure been fun for Chase.  We have actually really enjoyed having them.

 

 

 

We were told that the more you hold them when they are tiny, the less they will be afraid of people.

 

 

 

 



 

We were pretty sure that we had purchased six of the dumbest chickens on earth.  They learned quickly how to get up the ramp of their new home, but couldn't seem to get themselves down.  They would stay in there all day, in the blaring heat.  I was sure, every day, that we would have some fried chicken. Thankfully, they got it eventually.

 

I really do think that chickens are smarter than we think.  I think it's all part of the act, so we continue to expect less of them.  I have appreciated the fact that they have stopped laying eggs in the sandbox, and Jeff's smoker.

 

Anyway, it's been fun.  Chase takes his responsibilities with them very seriously.  He feeds and waters them, cleans their coop, and collects their eggs(about two dozen a week).  He sells the eggs, and gets to keep the profits. He really, really likes his chickens. 

 

It's a good thing, I guess.  They are apparently here to stay.

 

Forever.