The Joy of Raising Chickens

If someone would have told me ten years ago I would be raising chickens at this point in my life, I would have laughed insanely in their face. But, life takes us on some weird journeys, however, doesn't it? The irony of it all is this - I remember laughing at a kid in grade school who aspired to be a chicken farmer, and look at who's the chicken farmer now.

Do I know anything about chickens? No way, I am learning as I go. My husband raised some as a child along with pigs and goats. So, that helps. Until having my own, the only chickens I'd ever seen were the very-doomed ones on those trucks taking them to a processing plant.

Chickens are easy and inexpensive to raise-you can do it in your own back yard, unless your neighborhood has rules against it; And they pretty much earn their keep. We love the fresh eggs. Some times during the year, like when the weather turns cold, their laying might slow down or even stop. If you feed them oyster shells, however, they will keep laying all year.

But, it's like any new endeavor you begin, you ask the advice of people who have been there, and those you trust, and a great deal you learn from trial and error. But in the "science " of raising chickens, there is no science, and they're not so very much different from a dog or cat. They need nourishment, attention, and like any other living thing they benefit greatly from love.

I fell into this wonderful job of raising these fascinating creatures when my husband and I moved to a rural area, or as most refer to it: "the sticks." I am a city girl, but my husband had his heart set on getting back to his country roots, so three years ago, we bought a small 30-acre farm from a couple who were selling it due to a divorce. They were natives of Hungary, spoke little English, and grew most of the food they lived on, which I thought was admirable as well as nostalgic. It's smart, really, with all the additives in foods these days that are so bad for our health.

The little lady's English sounded like a foreign language to me, but on the day we moved in she took my hands in hers, obviously devastated to be leaving her home, her eyes full of tears, and I could make out a fragment of what she was saying, which was:

"I hope you very happy here, and I leave you 2 baby chicken."

About 100 yards from the house is a barn with chicken coop, and I went up to investigate. Sure enough, inside there were two chickens, probably close to about 4 months old, my husband guessed. I quickly named them Henrietta and Phyllis. Don't ask me what breeds they are because that is way out of my league. All I can say, is Henrietta is your normal looking hen, and Phyllis is weird-looking with a huge "fro" on her head. I have bever seen a chicken that looks like Phyllis anywhere.

It took no time at all to make them my friends because I spoiled them rotten. I found out they particulary love corn bread and oats. I give them this as a treat in addition to their usual feed of laying mash and corn. I also found out they love wheaties, and rice krispies, just like me. My husband thinks I'm nuts because as time passed, they trusted me enough to actually let me hold them like babies, and they eat out of my hand, just like a dog or cat.

After about two years of the two of them ruling the roost, so to speak, we got some baby chicks about 4 months ago. According to the hatchery where we bought them, you cannot introduce baby chicks to full-grown chickens until they are about 2 months old, because the adult birds will kill them. We wanted to keep a house full of hens only, so my husband bought 10 little pullets. We still have 6 of the ten, because sometimes, the little chicks are just too weak to make it. And yet, the ones we lost grew to a good size, but sometimes, you still lose them. One was lost, we think, due to the visit of a fox. When the baby chicks were first introduced to the coop (until they were two months old we raised them in our garage) we were concerned because they would not roost like their older counterparts, Henrietta and Phyllis, but would instead sleep on the ground right in front of the front door.

One night, something happened we would have never seen coming. We forgot to turn on their light, and something managed to get its paw through the chicken wire, and clutch one of the babies as they slept, and she was mauled to death through the door. Apparently whatever it was, a fox, or a coon, literally tried to pull her through the wire. To prevent this again, my husband nailed some wooden boards against the wire on the bottom of the coop, high enough so this thing couldn't reach in again. Losing the ones we've had has been the only drawback, but that's part of it. It's just hard for an "old softie" like me.

We put vitamins and electrolytes in their water, and make sure they always have plenty of feed. Henrietta and Phyllis sure didn't like the babies at first, and after two months, are still a little distant of them. Light is important when they're young and helps them acclimate to a new environment, so for about a month, we kept a light on for them at night. Now they are big enough that they do roost, so there is no need for their light.

About a month ago, I noticed that one of my red hens sure looked manly, or I guess I should say, not like a hen, and I could have sworn I heard crowing last week. Sure enough, it was no hen, but a rooster. I have no idea how to determine the sex of baby chicks, and apparently, it isn't easy, because the hatchery told us they were all pullets. But, it's fine, Hazel is now Harold, and he is very affectionate and likes attention. He might be the first rooster who likes to be held and have his chin scratched. He hasn't flogged me yet.

I have heard many rumors about roosters like if you don't have one, your hens will stop laying. This is not true, but roosters can help protect the flock, and they do crow, which I enjoy in the mornings, however, that depends on the person. Some might find it bothersome or annoying.

Unlike the Hungarian couple who lived here before us, I am sure I raise chickens for a totally different reason, which is for the eggs, and the friendship you gain from any good pet. My hens and one rooster will probably die from old age. It is likely that had the Hungarian lady not given me Henrietta and Phyllis that these two chickens would have wound up in a pot. Instead they have brought me so much happiness and enjoyment, and I am so glad they came into my life. I didn't realize it at the time, but they ended up being the best house-warming gift ever. It opened me up to a whole new exciting hobby, and 8 little furry friends. Like I said, life can sure take us on some weird journeys.