I resisted for a long time, refusing to be the one to buy chickens. I had made myself clear, that while I was not against chicken per se, they did freak me out and I did not feel comfortable around them, at all.
“A hen would never hurt you”, was a common response to my chicken fear. Then a pensive pause and a story of that one hen that was a bit off kilter. There is always that story and it never assuaged my fear, rather reinforced the fact that some chickens are plain crazy and not just cockerels.
My fear is a childhood fear. I wasn’t always afraid of chickens, but after being chased by my two of my grandmother’s chickens and my grandfather’s fearsome cockerel I put my foot down. I tried facing my fears as a child and spent a couple of months working in a chicken farm, but it didn’t do a thing for me.
There is something about their beady eyes, combined with sharp looking beaks and the way they look at you sideways with one eye. It gives them a slightly crazy look and you never know what they’ll pick at next.
I lost the battle and finally bought six young hens that need to be fattened up a bit before the eggs start coming. The good news is that I can finally say I have almost fully overcome my fear, not only can I touch them and pick them up, but I actually enjoy feeding and minding them. They know me by now and I can call them they come running from everywhere to check for whatever treats I have brought them.
My fearlessness has come as far as me teaching them to climb up the steps to the hen house. It is hard to imagine a sillier situation, me catching a chicken in the dusk, setting her at the steps and both pushing and encouraging her up the steps. Of the six only one was a bit slow on the pickup and thankfully I had to do the exercise just once; they now go into their coop by themselves every evening and we just make sure to close the door after them for safety.
With another type of pride, I can also tell you that our dog has quickly learned that the chickens are not prey. They easily walk around Bella without her paying them too much attention. Bella’s love for chasing birds and in particularly magpies had me worried, she never really fully eased up around the ducks and could not be trusted around them on her own. The chickens seem to be a different thing, she does herd them at times, barks when they spread out too much for her liking, but never gets any nearer than three feet.
The only ones that have had to be taught matters around the chickens are the cats and it is lucky that they are not full-blown hunters yet. At least one of them has understood that the chickens are out of bounds and we’ll do some work on the other one still.
The downside of fowl on the farm has been the fox attacks. I lost my laying ducks last Christmas, just as they were about to start laying seriously. I have now also lost three chickens and one left on the edge; this one has been amazing and has fully recovered. She still has bare areas on her back stained with the blue antiseptic liquid, but after being cooped up a week in a cat box she was more than ready to get outside and properly stretch her legs. I’m thinking of calling her Blue, although when she gets her new feathers I don’t know if I’ll be able to distinguish her from the rest.
I immediately got another three chickens and I’m being stricter with the closing in at night, also checking the doors which gave the fox easy access to the coop.
You want to have your fowl as free as possible, but at the same time a bit of incarceration keeps them safer. It’s a hard balance. I might just have to get an alpaca, I’ve heard that they are very protective, even of chickens. Wonder what Kevin might say about that, considering he was a bit lukewarm of the purchase of pygmy goats.
A most interesting thing is that we have a hen that regularly lays eggs with two yolks, imagine my surprise the first time I cracked an egg into my frying pan and this happens regularly. I haven’t figured out which one yet, but she is definitely a keeper; this is after all a house of twins.