Mothers' Day Chickens

It was just a few days ago that Meagan and I were discussing chickens. I had noticed on Facebook that several of my Gering friends had suddenly decided to raise chickens in their backyards. It seems that the City of Gering has finally passed a law allowing up to five backyard chickens per family. I was thrilled with the new law, and started brainstorming with Meagan about how to add a chicken coop to my yard. Meagan even offered a couple of her excess hens to be my starter chickens.

I knew that Bill would not object to having a couple of layers again, as we did, years ago, on our Michigan acreage. But first, we had to cross the chicken coop hurdle.

I was prepared to scrounge through our stash of old rabbit cages, chicken wire, and boards, to find the materials we would need to enclose the bottom of the kids' tree house, which is really just a playhouse on stilts, but Bill decided it would be much easier to just buy a chicken coop from Menards.

So, that's how I happened to receive a cute, well-designed chicken house, and two chickens, for Mothers' Day.


The chicken house, which came unassembled, of course, measures about six feet long by four feet high. Bill spent Saturday afternoon assembling it, and building a pressure-treated base. The job would have gone a lot quicker if he hadn't had to squeeze in a trip to the Emergency Room to have the gash on his finger glued back together, after his drill slipped off a screw.

The directions state that this coop will hold up to six chickens, but I don't think it would be wise to cram more than three into such a compact space. 

We stopped at the farm supply store this afternoon to pick up some chicken feed and a bag of wood chips to use for nesting material. Then, we headed out to Meagan's place to pick up our chickens.

Meagan had one formerly white chicken, the lowest in the Stobel chicken pecking order, that needed a new home. That poor hen is partially bald because some of the other hens have picked on her so much, and she was filthy because her coop mates refused to let her use the roost; instead, she slept on the ground. Meagan insisted that she was the nicest chicken they had, in spite of her bedraggled appearance.

Meagan also caught a beautiful, shiny, black hen that she knew would leave the white chicken alone. We put both chickens in a pet carrier in the back of our pickup, along with Meagan's spare feeder and a couple of water bottles she doesn't need, and headed for home.


Victoria was waiting for us on the sunny, backyard basketball court, where she had prepared two tubs of water, one for washing and the other for rinsing. Our youngest daughter is fearless, where animals are concerned, and wasn't at all worried about bathing a scared, dirty chicken. She was very gentle, talking soothingly to the hen, as she washed all the accumulated muck out of the bird's feathers. Then, Victoria wrapped the hen up in a towel and blotted her dry, before introducing her to her new home.


So now we have two unnamed chickens in the backyard coop. After they become accustomed to their new home, we plan to let them have the run of the backyard during the day, so they can eat weeds and bugs. I just wish they would eliminate our infestation of box elder bugs, but I'm not holding my breath. One reason box elder bugs are so prolific is because most birds, including chickens, will only eat them as a last resort.

I am pretty sure that the white hen lays white eggs, if she lays any at all, but I am hoping that the other one will give us some brown eggs. We will find out soon enough.


 

I enjoy watching chickens as they strut around the yard, searching for something good to eat. I love to hear their contented cackles and indignant squawks. I like to cradle a warm, freshly-laid egg in my hand, and I prefer to eat farm-fresh eggs-- or, perhaps I should call them "backyard-fresh" eggs.  

I hope I can keep these chickens from feasting on my garden crops, but I am prepared to build a garden fence, if necessary. I will be ecstatic if they develop a taste for those annoying box elder bugs. I will be pleased if they learn to ignore the dog, instead of clucking wildly when he peeks into the coop. I will be equally satisfied if Jackson will peacefully share the backyard with them. Today, he was banished to the house, where he wistfully watched the chicken-cleansing through the kitchen window.


And so, the newest adventure begins.

So God created...every sort of bird—each producing offspring of the same kind. And God saw that it was good. Genesis 1:21




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