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by Rachel Hurd Anger My husband and I have always been a dog-free family, until I began thinking of adopting a running buddy. The dog seed germinated randomly like my chicken seed did. It was first an idea that became a regular thought, and then an undeniable obsession. The desire for Woman’s Best Friend further […]Read more »
by Rachel Hurd Anger Our backyard chickens just celebrated their second Happy Hatchday, and as we sort of pat ourselves on our backs for having some of the world’s oldest chickens, we’re all still recovering from our first predator attack. The victim was Clara, a Partridge Plymouth Rock, our most robust and beautiful hen. She’s […]Read more »
by Rachel Hurd Anger Animals are simultaneously more wild than I, seemingly helpless, and tug at my heart like a lost kitten, an injured dog, or even a sad elephant. Now, a broody hen joins them. Our Australorp, Helen, went broody on us, and even though I’d been collecting the eggs promptly, something in […]Read more »
by Rachel Hurd Anger Poor Mabel. Suddenly, our Red Star stopped laying for nearly 2 weeks. Since she started back up, ovulation has been a little out of the ordinary. The first egg was a (beloved) double yolker. The second egg was the monster pictured. It’s nearly 3 1/4 inches long, and 6 1/2 inches […]Read more »
by Rachel Hurd Anger Our Buffed Laced Polish has become a nuisance, and that’s not only putting it lightly, but family-friendly. Sookie thinks she’s a rooster, and in her squeaky little mind somewhere behind all those head feathers (feather-brained?) the hand that feeds her is the biggest threat of all … that’d be yours truly. […]Read more »
by Rachel Hurd Anger We’ve finally built a compost bin, and while it’s not totally complete just yet, we’re using it. Finally, there’s a place for filthy chicken bedding, yard waste and kitchen scraps other than directly in the garden. Every afternoon, I take out the day’s kitchen scraps, food the kids didn’t finish or […]Read more »
by Rachel Hurd Anger There are eggs falling out of my chickens. Doesn’t that sound stupid? In all of my planning, reading, thinking and crooning about chickens for two solid years, not once did I deliberately calculate how many eggs we could expect in a week. My absolutely ignorant guestimate was a dozen, at best. […]Read more »
by Rachel Hurd Anger After weeks of expecting our chickens to lay eggs any moment, and day after day of walking out to the coop and walking back to the house feeling disappointed, Tuesday afternoon I plodded out there thinking it’d be just another eggless day. I’d been taking it a little personally. Only our […]Read more »
by Rachel Hurd Anger Today, our hens are 19 weeks old, nearly old enough to begin laying. Waiting for the first egg is starting to resemble the end of pregnancy when all is go, and everyone calls daily to see if mama’s in labor. Essentially, we are waiting for an event that will […]Read more »
There’s not much else like watching my little chickens in the snow. Poor little things without any shoes, eating smashed grains—cereal, essentially. Yeah, they’ll eat anything, and their grains provide all they need, but they’re animals who eat living things; they’re omnivores just like the people who keep them … trapped under a cold, depressing […]Read more »