First Chickens

Raising chickens has been an interesting adventure. When I first bought chickens at the local feed store, the employee grabbed each chick and stuck it in a cardboard box with a handle. Even though the baby chicks tried to jump out, I wasn’t offended, I knew that they really wanted to go home with me. But when handed to me, I felt such trepidation. It was if they had handed me a newborn baby… Oh my… what do I do with them?

I mean, I had their new starter home ready, heat lamps, small brooder box fashioned from an old wooden box that I had found in the old barn. I was excited. I actually took a picture of the box they were in and shared with my friends… no chickens in the picture, just the box. Such a goof! But I was on my way. Chickens… Fresh eggs… I was totally in it to win it!

I didn’t have the barn area ready however, so the baby chicks were going to be in my office for a few days under heat lamps until I could get the stall they were destined to live in safe and secure from predators. I couldn’t imagine losing one of these cute little babies to anything except old age. I was so naive, but determined to protect these babies.

What I didn’t think about was my boxer, Basia. How was she going to handle having baby chicks in the house? I was sure she would be fine. After all, who doesn’t like babies? Well, as soon as I came through the door with the little box stuffed with baby chicks, I realized that I could be wrong. This seemingly mild-mannered dog became super alert and protective. I swear I think she thought the little chirpers were going to eat me alive. I had to force my way past her and close the door to the office behind me. Whew!

Safely on the other side of the door, I set the box of baby chicks down on the floor and began placing them one by one into their new home. As I grabbed one, three tried to get out. I held one hand over the box while I lifted each chick flapping and scratching. After about the third escape attempt, I was convinced they were going to get out, where they could get lost behind my office desk or poop on a pile of paperwork. I could see myself on my hands and knees reaching behind and inside areas of my office space catching baby hatchlings, which made me giggle just a little. In order to save myself the trouble, I decided to place the carrying box inside the brooder and slowly tip it over.

Well, some things look better in my head, than in practice. As I tipped the box, the little birds scratched and scraped to remain upright. Even though I was moving the box slowly, the birds obviously didn’t want their world turned on end. I hadn’t taken into consideration that they had already had quite a day. They had been scooped out of their pen at the feed store, shoved in a little box, carried through the store, been for a car ride and then sniffed by a crazed boxer protecting her human. Now here I was rocking their world literally. There was jumping and squawking and little wings fluttering. I squealed, which cause the dog to bark from the other side of the door. This bark caused the chickens to freeze. All 18 of them. Standing perfectly still. Just for that moment, mind you, but I was hooked. Chickens, even though they can be flighty and squawky, were also very entertaining.