It's been awhile since I have blogged about my mom's recent foray into raising chickens, so I thought I would give an update to let you know the chickens finally made it into their new home. If you will remember, from a previous blog, my mom had purchased 25 baby chicks on the spur of the moment and having no where to put them, had made a pen for them in her garage. The chicks seemed to do well in their environment, but being a fast growing breed they quickly grew from their cute fuzzy stage into that awkward feather-fuzz, gangly look.
So off to google for chicken coop plans and with suggestions from the carpenter who was going to build it, she finally had everything in motion. Except for one small detail... rain. This spring it rained and rained and rained continually. All thoughts of building the new chicken coop were put on hold. Original plans had called for a concrete floor, which in this kind of weather, couldn't be poured. So on to plan B. On my mother's place there is an old building which I am not sure what it's original use was intended for. Years ago, a farmer had placed a couple of old bridge planks on each side of it and had used it to store grain. The bridge planks were to keep the sides from bursting out from the pressure of the stored grain. From all accounts though, it looked like at one time it could have been a chicken coop...like 75 years ago. But the building was still standing and it was declared the new home for the chickens. Of course being such an old building it required a bit of work to get it up to chicken snuff standards. The carpenter hired along with the help from one of my brothers, built a lean-to styled chicken run or area on the East side of the building and inside of the structure, they constructed a wall of metal siding with a door, so that upon entering you had half of the building for storage of feed and supplies and the back part was for the chickens. It sounds simple enough but it seemed to take on huge proportions when they insisted on digging deep trenches and lining with metal tin to prevent digging predators, along with burying chicken wire and completely encasing the enclosure in. One could only access the penned yard by another door that was constructed inside the building in the storage area. So with two new doors, a new wall, and an enclosed lean-to area, a new home was created. The guys were even kind of enough to build a chicken cage for transporting of the ever growing chickens. The first batch of chickens they deposited in the outside penned area, and the next two batches of chickens they placed inside the building. The only problem with their thinking was now we had segregated chickens. Being traumatized in their moving they didn't want to budge. The outdoor chickens stayed outdoors...the indoor chickens wouldn't venture out. I suppose eventually they might have figured it out, but there was a bit of dilemma brewing...
Rain, more rain was going to be moving in. No matter how hard my mom tried to coax them with feed up their walkway to the little square chicken door, they wouldn't budge. So she tried herding them. Chickens don't herd well, at least these chickens didn't. Still worrying about the upcoming rain my mom proceeded to chase and grab each chicken that was in the outside pen and toss it thru the chicken door. She was pretty good at it too. Well except when she kept forgetting that being a lean-to type structure the ceiling lowered at the one end and she would grab a chicken and stand up only to conk herself in the head. I winced the first couple of times she did it, and on the third time I thought perhaps I might need to call 911 and direct the rescue personnel to the prone, unconscious women on the ground that had chickens roosting on her. Luckily she managed to get all the chickens tossed inside and for a couple days/nights she would play the game of chicken run and toss when she worried her chickens might get drowned.
The chickens are finally learning and doing better and will now use their walkway in and out of the coop. And in the evening they will line up against the fencing when they see her coming with their feed and fresh water. They flap their wings and make a mad dash to be first in line. It's not like they are starving, they are huge. So huge, I accused my mom of having chickens that were part duck because they kind of waddle. In the mix are several roosters that are growing into big birds as well, but their voices haven't quite matched their size yet. The first time I heard one of them try to crow, it sounded like someone had stepped on a very tired and worn out squeeze toy. I looked over at my mom and trying to look as serious as possible I told her, "you have a gay rooster". I know, that isn't very politically correct, but I couldn't help but tease my mom on the weak, effeminate sounding crowing bird.
So far, I think she is still enjoying her chickens. The cost of feed isn't cheap though and I imagine those birds will have to work overtime whenever it's egg production time to make up for the cost. My mom did lose a couple of baby chicks in the very beginning from them crowding together too much. And since then she has only lost one other chicken, which in it's self, has become a bit of a mystery. The missing chicken was small and had an injured wing or leg and never moved much from it's spot. Faithfully my mom would go out every day and give the injured bird it's own food and water. She couldn't bring herself to kill the chicken. One day though, she went out to find the chicken missing. Someone or something had made off with the poor chicken. There was no blood, there was no feathers lying about, it had just vanished. A few days later my mom was chatting to me and mentioned she was sure she bought a new bag of flour and it wasn't there. It was gone. I told her, well, that obviously made sense, because whoever stole her chicken of course would need a bag of flour in order to coat and fry the chicken they had stolen...
I wonder some days about my mom...and her chickens...
If she can't kill one chicken, how will she kill any? If one chicken escapes or was stolen, will more chickens make their getaway? Will her chickens continue to get fatter until she will be forced to put in an electric escalator so they can go in and out? And I wonder will all of my mom's roosters turn out to be gay?
Raising chickens isn't as easy as they tell ya...
I could only cover my eyes with my hand the other day when my mom enthusiastically chirped that "we" could get a calf or some goats, she had plenty of room...
"Mom" ..(I sighed)..."where do you come up with this "we" stuff?"...
I feel tired....really tired... some days...
