A Family Style Chicken Ranch

Well, we are fully committed to this whole chicken raising thing.  Here are the clues:

Clue Number One:  We sweated and toiled for the chickens.

We have expanded the chickens’ quarters (not the edible quarters, their residential quarters), giving them a ‘chicken run’ or ‘yard’.  I think the best part of that is that the chickens can roam a bit now (We really would like for them to be free range, but camp doesn’t dig that and the dogs that walk our road would).  My Sweetie thinks the best part is that it was free.  Camp had the materials laying around near the coop, and so he and the kids used them to build a six foot fence around the outside of the coop.  So… free chicken run!  Wahoo!  Oh, and I’d show you photos of the toiling, but when I say ‘we’, I mean My Sweetie and the kids since I was inside eating bon bons (or Culver’s).

Clue Number Two: We now have even more chickens.

We got our next generation of hens.  Camp has a ‘petting zoo’ for the campers, but usually has to convince people to take the animals at the end of the season.  It can be difficult to find homes for pigs, chickens, ducks, lizards, mice, scorpions, snakes, tarantulas, etc (Did someone just say, “Hard to find a home for tarantulas and snakes?  Really?”  Settle down Ms. Sarcastic!  Besides… our family now claims Caesar the Squeezer- a ball python- who lives in My Sweetie’s office…far, far from my toddler… a whole ‘nuther post.  Seems since we moved to camp finding home for nature study animals is getting easier.  Whatever.).  Thinking ahead, the director of that area asked us what kind of chickens we would like to add to our flock in August.  So… free chickens!

The new girlies just came ‘home’ recently (naturally, they are all named).  We are a bit skittish about adding to our flock because the last time we tried that, little Daisy was killed (I imagine the new hens would be skittish too if they read this blog.  Sure glad they don’t!).  Turns out hens can be pretty stinkin’ brutal.  We had heard about the whole ‘pecking order’ thing, so we kept her in a cage in the coop for a day before letting her out.  Ahem.  Turns out one day is not long enough.  Letting little Daisy get pecked to death just added more to our chicken farming failures, but we trudge on.  Daisy can’t have died in vain, right?  Or we are gluttons for punishment.  Whatever.

Clue Number Three: We altered the bodies of the chickens.

We clipped wings.  As a family, no less.  Yup, clipped ‘em like we knew what we were doing.  I’m thinkin’ we were full red-necks about it since we just moseyed on down there, Wee Babe in his diaper (though I often count his cloth diapers as shorts since they are so stinkin’ cute), and everyone had to participate, by either holding the hen upside down, or by clipping.  Man, oh man!  I thought I felt ‘country’ when we set up the coop and all, but really this clipping thing definitely added to the whole Ma Ingalls experience.  Super cool and super foreign all at the same time, even though it was hilariously easy and painless for all involved.

We are definitely hoping these hens join the flock well, produce sooner than our first recruits and exceed the survival rate set before them.

I’m impressing you tons, aren’t I?  Seriously.