by Eric Guel
We also learned that it’s easy (at least for us) to not get too attached to an animal that seems to be only slightly higher than an insect on the Intelligence Scale, but we still love ’em for what they are. I’m sure some people get attached to their birds, but Brandi and I are wee bit more utilitarian in our thinking. We see chickens and we see meat and eggs, period. Alright, alright, alright. We do have a bit of a soft spot for our flock’s patriarch, Morning, but he’s the exception that proves the rule! (That’s him in the photo.)
Since our initial foray into chicken raising we’ve been pretty darn busy with birds on our humble little 2-acre homestead. We’ve built a coop, obtained a few chicken tractors, and figured out how to manage nesting boxes. We’ve raised Wyandotte bantams, barnies, meat birds, and even Muscovy ducks. We’ve seen feathered life hatch on our property, and we’ve woken up in the morning to find 17 dead birds after a coyote raid. We’ve been up and we’ve been down, but we’ve kept on going—for love of poultry.
So onward we go, and I can only imagine that we’ll be raising chickens for the rest of our lives because we’re, well, addicted to farm fresh meat and free-range eggs. It’s only been 15 months since we bought our first flock and our chicken-raising feet are officially wet. Heck, on second thought they’re not just wet, they’re soaked, and we’re loving every minute of it!