It’s the end of an era.
We’ve been raising chickens since Lauren decided to get involved with the 4H Poultry Project a decade ago. And today we sent them off with a friend who has promised to let them stay with her chickens and/or give them to a friend who is in need of chickens and isn’t that concerned with egg production or the age of said chickens. Because some of these birds are five or six years old, after all.
They’ve never lived here at our house, despite Lauren personally speaking before the City Council here in Our Little Town to get that law passed. Our friend Lois volunteered the use of her barn when we started this project, and we kitted out first one stall and then another for them. We’ve always had too many chickens for us to bring back into town. You’re allowed a few hens here in town (not roosters – nobody likes roosters, not even hens) but there never seemed much of a point to bringing that many home and leaving the rest at the barn.
They’re a good flock. There’s an assortment of breeds – Ancona, Barred Rock, Silky, Salmon Faverolle, and so on, and at least one random hen from Lois' flock that kind of wandered in and got adopted. Pretty impressive diversity for a flock that numbers an even dozen. There’s even a rooster who is perhaps the most low-key cockerel I’ve ever seen, which is why he never went to Lois’s friend to become Lucky Rooster Soup. He crows now and then, but otherwise he just kind of hangs out and doesn’t get aggressive. He even had a rooster buddy for a while until that one went to the big Colonel’s Bucket in whatever sky chicken souls go to.
We’ve been looking to get out of the chicken racket for a while now. Lauren aged out of 4H a couple of years ago and hasn’t lived at home since. Mostly it’s just been me and Lois taking care of them these days.
It will be strange not having them, though.
Many of the most absurd sentences that have ever fallen out of my mouth have concerned poultry, either the chickens or the turkeys that we also raised at the barn for a few years. I know far more about the accursed nature of chicken wire than I ever thought I would. The eggs have been wonderful, though. We’ll definitely miss those.
But it was time.
We went to the barn today and boxed them up for the long ride up to northern Wisconsin where our friend lives. They’re probably running around up there now. We left the chicken equipment and feed for Lois, since she still has chickens and she might find some use for it. I did snag the sign Lauren made way back when she was in fourth grade and just starting out with this project.
We’ve been raising chickens since Lauren decided to get involved with the 4H Poultry Project a decade ago. And today we sent them off with a friend who has promised to let them stay with her chickens and/or give them to a friend who is in need of chickens and isn’t that concerned with egg production or the age of said chickens. Because some of these birds are five or six years old, after all.
They’ve never lived here at our house, despite Lauren personally speaking before the City Council here in Our Little Town to get that law passed. Our friend Lois volunteered the use of her barn when we started this project, and we kitted out first one stall and then another for them. We’ve always had too many chickens for us to bring back into town. You’re allowed a few hens here in town (not roosters – nobody likes roosters, not even hens) but there never seemed much of a point to bringing that many home and leaving the rest at the barn.
They’re a good flock. There’s an assortment of breeds – Ancona, Barred Rock, Silky, Salmon Faverolle, and so on, and at least one random hen from Lois' flock that kind of wandered in and got adopted. Pretty impressive diversity for a flock that numbers an even dozen. There’s even a rooster who is perhaps the most low-key cockerel I’ve ever seen, which is why he never went to Lois’s friend to become Lucky Rooster Soup. He crows now and then, but otherwise he just kind of hangs out and doesn’t get aggressive. He even had a rooster buddy for a while until that one went to the big Colonel’s Bucket in whatever sky chicken souls go to.
We’ve been looking to get out of the chicken racket for a while now. Lauren aged out of 4H a couple of years ago and hasn’t lived at home since. Mostly it’s just been me and Lois taking care of them these days.
It will be strange not having them, though.
Many of the most absurd sentences that have ever fallen out of my mouth have concerned poultry, either the chickens or the turkeys that we also raised at the barn for a few years. I know far more about the accursed nature of chicken wire than I ever thought I would. The eggs have been wonderful, though. We’ll definitely miss those.
But it was time.
We went to the barn today and boxed them up for the long ride up to northern Wisconsin where our friend lives. They’re probably running around up there now. We left the chicken equipment and feed for Lois, since she still has chickens and she might find some use for it. I did snag the sign Lauren made way back when she was in fourth grade and just starting out with this project.
Fare the well, chickens. You were ridiculous and companionable animals. I wish you scratch grain and sunny days.
4 comments:
I'm not at all certain how appropriate this is going to be - but …
If you [love] them, let them go.
I remember when the last of our horses died. Tears all around*. But after 29 years of working with those animals, we were simply burned out.
Looking back now, though, we don’t actually miss anything about the culture, which is best summed up by a sign I saw painted on the rear of a horse trailer at the recent county fair:
“More Addictive Than Cocaine - And Considerably More Expensive”
Love the memories made with the horses. Don’t miss the work or expense at all.
Lucy
* For a significantly extended period**.
** About a day. Maybe two. 🤔 😳 😉
Yeah, that's pretty much it in a nutshell.
Ten years is a long time for poultry when you're not a farmer, and I won't miss the regular trips out to the barn in icy winter or blasting summer, nor the period cleaning out of the pen (which we do have to do one more time, so as to leave the place nice).
But the eggs were wonderful, and the chickens taught us a lot so we had a certain amount of affection for the beady-eyed little robots. But yeah, it was time.
Also, that sign on the horse trailer literally made me laugh out loud so thanks for that. :)
We still have the boys chickens. I quite like the little feathered maniacs. And the eggs are very nice. It helps that the henhouse and run is only about 40 paces from the back yard, though.
They're livestock, not pets, but you do get attached to them anyway. They have definite personalities. :)
I suspect that if we had them 40 paces away rather than four miles things would have turned out differently. Or if I hadn't been working an overload since the fall of 2019. But it was fun while it lasted!
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