Wednesday, May 27, 2009

I AM a Chicken Tender


I have been unable to post until today about my new chickens because of a plight unique to the modern homesteader: my broadband has been down. Quite a handicap, and I was much more inconvenienced than I care to admit.

My chicks were four weeks old on Monday. They are amazing, growing machines. From fuzzy little handfuls 30 short days ago, they are now nearly fully-feathered and look like real chickens. The cockerel has his comb and wattle, and thankfully there is only one (I don't know how those hatchery people sex day-old chicks, but they are GOOD. They hatched on Monday and on Tuesday, the 25 chicks were packed into a 12x18-inch box and shipped by the Postal Service. They arrived at my house about 6 p.m. on Wednesday. I am especially grateful to the postmistress, who delivered them to our house after hours--I had checked every day and that very morning, not realizing they received afternoon shipments. (Photo above: Chicken in a box, and not the kind we're used to)

I started them out in a cardboard box in the bathroom, the only place with a door that closes to protect them from our mostly lazy, but still predatory cat. The 18x36-inch box was outfitted with a quart chick waterer, a brooder lamp with a red heat bulb (to prevent toe picking), and a simple paper plate for feed. Initially, I lined the box with paper towels over the pine shavings, since apparently they will pick at and eat anything until they find the feed. After a day or so, I switched to a trough feeder with little holes for them to stick their heads into. The chicks settled into their new home, and it was nice to pop in every 15 minutes or so to just look at them and listen to their constant peeping.


After about a week, several of the more adventurous chicks began flying up at us when we came into visit. Once or twice, they made it to the top edge of the box. It was time to move them our into the coop. It was still cool outside, mid-50s during the day and we had some pretty cold nights, so I created an enclosure inside the 4x6-foot coop with some cardboard and hooked the light to one of the rafters. Not long after, I had to abandon the trough feeder because the chicks all perched on top of it and proceeded to poop in their feed. I switched to a tube feeder and removed the cardboard circle. The chicks wanted to roam and a few more square feet was all I could give them inside.

The power of animal instinct always amazes me. The chicks were not even two weeks old, but they so wanted to perch on things. I knew I needed to replace the single piece of wood that was the only roost provided, so my son and I set about building a simple ladder-style roost that I could remove when I needed to add or remove bedding. Within 10 minutes of putting it into the coop, the chickens had learned to hop from the low perch to the highest one. A few days later, they began pecking at the window as if to say, "Hey, let us out there!"

Now, I was really under the gun since I had not expected to let them outside for a couple of weeks and didn't have any materials. I made a hasty trip to Lowe's and came back with some 2" wire fencing, metal posts, and plastic netting. Initially, my thought was to create a rotating chicken run, in order to let the chickens eat down the grass and give the old area time to recover. After an afternoon of driving stakes, clipping on fencing and wire tying netting to the top to keep out predatory birds, I realized that this run was semi-permanent. The laying hens will have to enjoy vegetable scraps and other treats; the meat birds will be pastured--but that's the next blog... In the end, I was proud of my little 8 x 14 foot run. I built it pretty much by myself, and that includes a little utility door which allows me to reach in to put feed and water outside. I later realized my fence prohibited me from opening the chicken door without going inside, but my husband kindly rigged me a pulley system which works beautifully.

The day had arrived for the chicks to make their first venture into the great outdoors. I asked my son to pull the rope, while I waited with my camera. First one chick appeared at the door, cocking its head curiously as it peered outside. Several more appeared, looking over the backs of the first ones. Soon, most of them had crowded in behind and began jostling the others about, peeping with annoyance at each other until inevitably one was pushed out nearly falling onto its beak. Two more tumbled out until those in the middle of the pack were able to step out of their own accord. It was a funny scene. Ever since, each day when I open the door, they all come streaming out at once, then take a flying run across the yard to stretch and flap their wings. I can see that now that I am a chicken tender, every day will be an adventure. (*Many thanks to my sister-in-law Sue, a chicken "hawker," for the chicken tender pun)