Chicken Lovers

The Mables trying to come in the door of the cottage.

What a time I have had with chickens these past few months.  The varmints whittled my flock from around 70 to nine!!!  Yes, that's a heart-breaker.  It involved a fence-climbing fox, a digging possum, a hungry hawk and a pack of coyotes.  Those are stories for another day.

At first I spent my days mourning, grieving and stomping the ground because of my loss.  Then I began to realize how much LESS work 9 chickens are compared to 70.  Less "fertilizer" to process.  Fewer eggs to clean and box.  Less water to carry (it's winter, and a bad one).  This farmgirl is not getting any younger.

Then, I checked my feed bill at the end of the month...ZOWIE.  Not only less work, but less cash outlay.

My husband and I have spent countless hours teetering back and forth on the pros and cons of selling to the public.  We decided in January that this would be the year to go wholesale.  So, the loss of egg sales was a mute point.

Then a friend and neighbor moved and I got their chickens.  Then someone else needed to get rid of their chickens.  All of a sudden I was up to about 30 hens and my trusty rooster, Rooty-toot-tooty.

Even in blizzards, arctic wind, snow, sleet and frigid temps those chickens were laying 1 1/2 to 2 dozen eggs A DAY.  That's a lot of eggs.

EGG avalanche.

When the weather breaks, I have a darling chicken house remodel swirling around in my mind that I want to do.  It would be better with a small flock, so I confided in my feed lady that I wanted to get rid of some hens.   As it turned out she knew of someone who might be in the market. 

However, after the arrangements were made, I began to second guess myself.

I love my hens!!  No one would take as good a care of those peeps or love them as much as I do (in my own mind).   And, I'd had a bad experience with a guy who bought some chickens from me several years ago.  He grabbed them by the toes, a leg, a wing, he didn't care as long as he got a hold of them.  I was boiling furious at his total disregard to the hens comfort and my sanity.

So, I was starting to feel like I wanted to back out of the deal.  And, by the time the new buyer came to get them I had worked myself into a good tither.  However, I should have known our mutual friend, the feed lady, wouldn't steer me wrong.  This guy was kind and gentle, not only in his handling of them but the way he spoke to them...obviously a chicken lover!!!  I almost cried I was so happy.

So, now I'm back down to 9 hens.  The new chicken digs are taking shape in my head.   Rooty-toot-tooty is happy.  I'm happy.  And, because of one more chicken lover in this world, my other hens are happy. Life is good.

That's Rooty-toot-tooty in the back. He'll be four years old this summer.  He's lost almost all his color and is a beautiful white now.  He's half Aracauna/half Rhode Island Red.