Like others dealing with the COVID-19, Dottie and I invested in chickens. It was her idea, I was along for the ride on this one. My grandparents had chickens, so having them in my yard bridged some arcs in my life. Having chickens reminds me of basic, simple things I had forgotten.
My grandparents first had Rhode Island Reds, then White Leghorns and "Domineckers" chickens. Because they had a dozen or so chickens we usually had eggs in our refrigerator. To us they were eggs, all other eggs were "store bought." I did not know the phrases "yard eggs," "organic" or "free range chickens" until I was in my thirties.
Growing up we could tell the "regular eggs" from store bought eggs. Store bought eggs had white shells. Their yolks were not as yellow and we thought they had less flavor than regular eggs.
Having chickens will change your life.
I find the routine of the chicken calming.
Growing up when Granny talked about "...going to bed with the chickens..." we knew then as we do today what she spoke of. Chickens, like other domestic animals, are creatures of routine. Their days are run by the rising and setting of the sun. After years of working in heavy industry, I have respect for that aspect of the chicken. I believe we would all be happier with a full night's sleep.
Chickens are happy with their lot in life, our crossbeak taught me that. They are content to wake up and go to sleep with the rising and setting of the sun and to scratch and peck through their days. Some folks associate being content with a simple mind, but I find being content challenging. Achieving contentment has not been a permanent state for me, but when I find it, it is rewarding. My contentment is usually not associated with material acquisitions or accolades from the industrial/corporate hamster wheel.
Chickens also have personalities, which I feel is a mark of intelligence. Some of my chickens are nervous, others are down right personable. Brownie, my Rhode Island Red, is practically a family pet.
Living With Chickens is to Live More Directly.
In the wild many birds have a high mortality rate. Dove and bobwhite quail for example, have an 80% mortality rate. That means 80% of the hatch does not live to an adulthood. I suspect wild chickens would have similarly high mortality rates.
Owning chickens as an adult is more involved than enjoying my grandparents chickens when I was a child. We found that even in the warm Houston summer our chicks could get chilled and die during the night.
One of our chicks developed a cross beak. Sadly, despite our efforts we lost this bird. This was the bird that taught me that these animals have an identity as a chicken and with their flock. They are driven to be with their sisters.
We took great efforts to make food she could eat, but she was happier pecking like her peers, even though it became impossible for her to feed as a chicken.
We also unfortunately, lost several birds to predators. I suspect opossums are the villains at work here. A few of our birds just died while the other chicks thrived.
One of our chicks turned out to be a rooster. Despite our daily efforts to socialize him, he became too aggressive. Now he is cooling off in freezer camp. Some of our birds just "got away." I suspect hawks claimed them.
Someone may take us to task on losing birds. My kids affectionately named our birds, we did not take the responsibility lightly.
Believe it or not, I believe opossums, racoons, hawks and owls are greater threats to my Houston birds than they were to my grandparents' country chickens. In those days, especially in rural areas, those predators were kept in check. In town these creatures run at large and amongst sympathetic urbanites. Finding the feet and wingtips of a bird my children named and were fond of sort of changes your perspective. Such is life.
We built a coop for our birds. mostly from salvaged materials. Our chickens don't seem to mind I am a hack and not a carpenter.
On another level, chickens are highly efficient alternative to composting. They eat a surprisingly array of tables scraps and wilted vegetables.
Keeping chickens allows me to extend my orbit from the non-seasonal life patterns we live in. I don't see it as practical to attempt to live off grid, I do not entertain that notion as healthy. On the other hand though, I am less and less comfortable bouncing along with every new "here today gone tomorrow" societal trend. I realize buying chicken feed keeps me tethered to society, but I like the notion that I am living a little closer to the earth and a bit more naturally. If this be an illusion, it is a pleasant one, and no less artificial than the alternatives the news feed of my smartphone streams.
Thanks for reading.
MSM
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