My parents are now living in a small community just outside of town and as such, they are allowed to have chickens. Much to the delight of my nieces.
Dad built an addition to the shed for the lawn mower and another addition onto that for the hen house. And enclosed an area attached to that with a good sized cage so the chickens could get a little sunshine.
I’m visiting them this weekend and while the nieces were also over yesterday, Dad opened up the cage to let the chickens wander the yard. He seemed pretty cool about it, but the rest of us tried to calmly keep the chickens nearby by walking around where they were headed and then walking back towards them. A sort of “hey, we’d really like you to go that way instead” to the chickens. And which they responded to with a sort of “yeah, we were already planning on turning around anyway”
One of the favorite chickens – named “Sandy” by my nieces – got picked up by my Dad and we took turns petting her.
The chicken, not my niece.
She wasn’t super excited about it initially, but settled down. Which was especially good for one of my nieces that had been pecked a couple of times she had messed with the chickens.
Dad let Sandy go and we got all of the chickens casually corralled back into the enclosure- except Sandy.
This chicken wandered around to the far side of the pen and could not be inclined to go back to the door. She would get partway there and then get confused. Sort of like, “I know the door must be around her somewhere – I must have passed it,”
Or perhaps I’m projecting.
In any case, the chicken was lost and action needed to be taken. So, hoping not to be pecked or pooped upon, I caught up to Sandy and scooped her up.
She was annoyed at the indignity, but settled down as I walked her back around to the cage door and put her back inside with the rest of the chickens. I was surprised at how light weight she was, but that’s what you get with feathers and hollow bones.
Chicken Observer? Check. Chicken Herder? Check.
Chicken Wrangler?
Check.
Dad expects the chickens – which he’s raised from chicks – to be producing eggs by July. He and Mom both seem to be enjoying them and other than the odd rooster crowing, its a pretty quiet hobby.
For me, I think I’ll just stick with my non-producing slacker cat.