Super Chickens

Position: SCRATCHING FOR FEED

With 10 hungry beaks to feed, you’d think taking care of chickens would be a chore. Turns out it isn’t. The little peckers have grown on us over the past couple of weeks and now they’re downright cute. As far as I can tell, they eat almost anything; although we have yet to test the boundaries of what that means. They are not, after all, our chickens.

At our first housesit in the UK a couple of years ago, the owner ran down the instructions of what and what not to do with their half-dozen chickens and promptly left for New York. To Dos included the basics of making sure they were fed and watered. Don’ts amounted to not letting the little buggers out under any circumstances. Not only would they run away, but they’d likely get chased by one of their dogs and eaten. Inexperienced as we were, we took this to mean these chickens were prized and we committed to doing our best with them.

About three days in, Carol went out to the coop and one of the fanciest-looking ones had keeled over dead. Mortified, she begged my help in figuring out what had happened. No holes were found in the wire and the gate was locked when Carol went to feed them. That meant nothing like a fox or cat had broken in during the night. Lying on its back with its feet in the air, the other five chickens appeared unperturbed by her sudden demise.

Sang-Froid

Feeling awful, Carol contacted the owners and explained what happened and asked what we should do next. “Don’t worry. It happens all the time. Chickens just keel over”, the owner replied, “Just toss it in the rubbish.” However fond you are of your chickens, we realised in that moment mourning their inevitable deaths is entirely optional.

Back in Oregon and armed with our poultry-geist sang-froid (really? – ed) we now worry less about losing a chicken from natural causes and more about losing them to coyotes. But with Tula and NPR’s help, even that isn’t a big worry. The more time we spend with them, the better we get to know their personalities. There is a pecking order, of sorts. It appears to be based on seniority and not good looks. Which is as well since this is a good-looking bunch of birds.

They are also productive. It is my understanding that chickens lay more in the summer when the days are longer. In the cold, dark days of winter, egg laying comes second to keeping warm. At night, we put them to bed and turn on a couple of heat lamps. That helps keep them comfortable and the added light means we’re getting three to four fresh eggs a day. National egg shortage? What national egg shortage?

Lucky, the eldest, was once carried off by a coyote who dropped her when Tula gave chase. A large tear in her back slowly healed but she was back to laying within a month. Instead of humility, her near-death experience merely gave her attitude. She’s the first to muscle her way through to the dried worms we spread as a treat in the morning, and the last to roost at night. You have to admire her pluckiness. (Geez, really? – ed.)

Video

One thing unites all the chickens here and that is their passion for tortilla chips. Merely shaking the bag brings them running from every corner of the barnyard. The tide of inrushing chickens is as funny as it is engaging. This video will give you a sense of what I mean:

---