i am a chicken farmer part 3

M and I were enjoying the bliss that one has during the chicken honeymoon period.  We sat for hours playing with the babies, petting them and praising ourselves for being such forward thinkers.  We talked endlessly about different egg recipes, coop plans and all the chicken knowledge we gathered on the internet the night before.  The chicks were handled constantly by many small hands and even brought indoors for bonding purposes because what use is it to have a chicken if it can’t be brought indoors to watch TV on your lap?  We all had our turn being christened by hot stinky chicken poop.  Turns out even if a chicken really really loves you they will still poop on you.  Never read that in all my chicken research.   

The brooder cage was kept in M’s garage.  The door went up in the morning and down at night to keep our little ones safe.  We cleaned the cage daily lining it with newspaper because God forbid their little toes have to step on the wire bottom of the cage.  These were some pampered chicks. 

We got down to business naming them.  We had agreed ahead of time that we would be raising some conservative, biblical and wholesome hens and their names needed to reflect that.  Because you know if we would have named one Lexus or Gucci they would have turned out… well you know…  So bible names it was and if not biblical at least something that conjures up Little House on the Prarie or something with innocent country charm.  No Disney characters or types of chicken dishes (Kiev, Nugget, Patty etc…).  We are serious chicken farmers here and this was a big decision.  This is the point we felt the need to create the board of directors.   Truthfully the board of directors includes only M and myself.  Our husbands think they sit on the board but they are really just honorary members with little voting power.  Scott and E (M’s husband) do not read this blog, please do not pass this information on.  Thank you kindly in advance.  I've since deemed M the additional title of head of security but more on that later.  In the end the board of directors settled on the following names:

Splash Silkie: Eden

Red Frizzle: Goldie

Bigger Buff Orphington: Elizabeth

Smaller Buff Orphington: Josephine aka Josie

Bigger Cuckoo Maran: Esther

Smaller Cuckoo Maran: Delilah

Easter Egger: Robin

Polish Top Hat: Magdalene aka Maggie

Golden Laced Wyandotte: Willa

I soon ordered some chicken nipples that would resolve the madness that came with trying to keep the water dish clean.  We fashioned them to the bottom of some two liter soda bottles and used cable ties to hang them in the brooder.  I worked hard to teach all the girls the chicken nipple system.  I and pulled out a stool and sat and sat and sat.  I would tap the nipple to make it leak and peck at it with my finger mimicking a chicken beak.  They would all stand there very curious and then one at a time I would hold their beak to the nipple and trickle water out.  I made a list of all of our babies and then marked them off as they demonstrated chicken nipple competency.  It took 2 days before I felt comfortable removing the old messy watering system.  This is how I determined where each chicken fell on the IQ spectrum.  The smartest by far are the Buff Orphingtons.  They catch on to everything so much faster than any of the other breeds.  It appears the more ornamental and pretty the bird the lower the IQ.  I don’t believe in most stereotypes but have to say that silkies must be the dumb blondes of the chicken world (not that I actually believe that any blondes are dumb).  So sweet and funny and lots of fun but maybe not a lot going on up top. 

The chickens were very popular with the kids.  I think M was a bit overwhelmed when six children would show up in her garage at all hours of the day and night all begging to hold chicks at the same time.  We were trying to keep a low profile in the neighborhood and six children whining and dancing around a cage in the garage with the door wide opens tends to draw attention.  Not to mention none of these children had valid chicken experience so dropping chicks resulting in a flock of children chasing a flock of flapping chicks out into the street was a real possibility.  M suggested we only allow two children at a time to hold the chicks and also implemented a rule that no child should open the brooder without an adult present.  This is why she is such a good farming partner, she’s logical.  I would probably just go on dealing with the crazy if it wasn't for her and her common sense.   I think we were both excited for the novelty of the chicks to wear off.  It since has and we've come to a happy place.  The children that are actually interested in chickens are now experienced enough to know how to handle the chickens and keep them safe.  Those who are less interested observe but are done begging to hold the chickens. 

We fell into a nice routine of cleaning the cage, bringing in fresh clumps of dirt with green grass, feeding and watering.  When we would run out of newspaper for the pan below the cage we would send one of the children to the corner to gather enough of the free Senior Life or Florida Weekly papers. 

While at Linda’s chicken farm M had discussed some additional chickens we’d be interested in and several days after getting our flock integrated M got news that Linda had just received a shipment of Polish Top Hats.  They were 1 day old.  M drove back out and picked up two.  They appeared to be similar in size to my little black frizzle that I had picked up at Haley’s farm so we put all three of them together in a 20 gallon turtle aquarium that I had laying around from a previous free turtle adventure.  The three chicks got along quite well and so became roomies.

We added the following to the flock:

Splash Polish Top Hat: Pearl

Silver Laced Polish Top Hat: Lacey

These babies had to be under the light so we dug through E’s workshop searching for extension cords and strung them across the garage.  We rigged up a brooder light that we could raise and lower as needed.   

We now had a flock of nine.  M and I cleaned them out regularly and I swept the floor daily but I still felt a twinge of guilt every time I entered the garage/coop.  I couldn't help but feeling like we’d infringed on M's husband’s territory.  We unplugged one of his garage door openers to have an outlet for the brooder light, I used his table saw stand to hold the baby chick’s aquarium, stole some of his cable ties to wire part of the cage shut, and made use of all the tools I needed.   He was probably sick of seeing me occupying his garage day and night but I needed to be with my flock.  After all, we were bonding.  One day I called M to see if she could open the garage door for me and she instructed me to sneak through the house because she was laying down with the baby.  I snuck through the back door as instructed, crept through the house like a cat burglar and tiptoed out into the garage.  I couldn't find the light switch so I went about watering, feeding and cleaning the cage in the near dark.  Suddenly the kitchen door squeaked open and I watched M’s mother in law come out to start a load of laundry.  I froze while I struggled with how to announce my presence.  I knew any movement or sound would startle her and so I cowered near the corner waiting.  She screamed as we made eye while I apologized and stumbled over my tongue trying to make her understand why I the creepy neighbor lady was lurking in her garage in the dark.  She was quite understanding however she probably feels like she's being watched every time she comes out into the garage at night.  The funniest run in though was the day I walked over extra early in the morning.  I was happy to see that the garage door was up and I could do what I needed to do without disturbing anyone.  As I rounded the corner about to start babbling and saying good morning to my hens I caught a glimpse of some skin.  M’s husband was bent over in front of the washer wearing some very small shorts or boxers or something.  I don’t recall exactly what the outfit was because I was so focused on back pedaling as quickly and cautiously as possible.   Being a rather robust woman, I am not often described as stealthy, quick or light footed but I assure you I was silent and lightening quick as I raced for the safety of my own yard.  I was a thousand shades of red as I tried to undo what had just almost played out.  That was a really close call.  I felt guilty enough but if his eyes would have met mine I think I would have died.   I never mentioned that run in to anyone except my own boys who asked what was wrong when I came flying into the house sputtering and red and sweating.  After my two run ins I think it was safe to say we were all excited to get these chickens out of the garage.  I was tired of being the peeping bird woman, the chickens wanted sunshine and dirt, M’s husband probably wanted his garage and his privacy back. 

For all you women out there ready to execute a chicken purchase just as soon as your husband finishes your dream coop listen up.  Nothing will motivate you husband to build a coop faster than allowing nine stinky chickens and one creepy neighbor lady to occupy his beloved man cave.  Do not wait I tell you, buy those birds and let your husband find the natural motivation to build that coop.