Last week, I was looking through my day planner and realized, holy shit. It’s been a year since we got those first chicks and ducklings. It caused me to pause a moment, and think about all that I’ve learned over this year.
I’ve learned that raising chicks and ducklings together is a pain in the ass. Why? Because the ducks want to try to bathe in the water, causing the litter to always be wet. Causing me to always have to change it. But I loved watching the ducklings grow into ducks, and interact with all the chicks. Nobody knew they were any different! Would I do it again? Probably not. A pair of Mallards is enough for my little backyard flock. I’m thinking when I get my next round of chicks to raise, it’ll be a little less messy.
I’ve learned that I will always have to sweep mulch back into the flower beds. When chickens are digging for bugs, they don’t really care that they are flinging mulch all over the place and making the sidewalk a mess. They don’t have very good manners.
I’ve learned that dust bathing is essential to a chicken keeping themselves clean, and that they will set up their baths wherever they damn well please. Like beside the shed ramp, where they dug a hole that is 6 inches deep. Or in the front flower bed, against the house, where they dug a trench. Also 6 inches deep. Screw using that tub that I filled so nicely with composted wood shavings, sand, DE and wood ash.
I’ve learned that I don’t HAVE to get up at the ass crack of dawn to let the chickens out of their coop. They will be just fine if I let them out when I wake up. When we first got them I felt like I HAD to run out before the sun and open up the coop so they could get out into the run and eat, drink, and frolic like chickens do. Then I got sick and couldn’t get up at the ass crack of dawn to let them out. And guess what? They lived! Sure, they were all at the coop windows, popping their heads up peeking out, making a ruckus. And they all stormed out and it seemed like some of them gave me the stink eye. But they lived. So until we get that automatic door opener I’m dreaming about, they’ll have to deal with being let out of the coop when I get there. It’s roomy, and gets a nice supply of fresh air. So they’ll be just fine.
I’ve learned that chicken poop will be all over my 1 1/4 acre yard. Including the front porch. The cement slab to get into the basement. The deck steps. The driveway. The world is their bathroom. Which means a shoe scraper really IS an essential household tool. So is the hose. But in the garden, yard and the flower beds? It’s a great fertilizer!
I’ve learned that when my chickens (and ducks) see me, they think Hey! That’s the human that gives us food! Let’s run at her at full speed and see what she’s got for us! They also realize real quick where the scratch grains are kept, and that a cup of them being shaken is the sign to come back to the coop for tasty treats – AKA I’ll be gone until after dark and don’t want you guys to become a predator meal, so you need fenced in.
I’ve learned that my rooster, Thor, while beautiful, is a complete and total ass. Sure he protects the ladies, calls them when he finds something yummy to munch on, rounds them up when it’s time for bed. But he’s not smart enough to realize that the humans – specifically the hubs & I – aren’t predators. So he tries to attack us. Randomly of course. So I’ve taken to carrying around the snow shovel or the broom to keep him away and I’ll lunge at him every once in a while, letting him know who is the boss. I never would have guessed that I’d need to establish dominance over a chicken.
I’ve learned that chickens and ducks are possessive of their piece of land. Any birds who aren’t their coop mates get chased out of the yard, in a very showy way. Lots of wing flapping and yapping.
I’ve learned that the hens I have are super vocal about their egg laying. Announcements are made, which results in kudos calls from the other hens who are out and about.
I’ve learned that nothing beats eating an egg that came from your own back yard, from chickens you feed and care for. The taste is exceptional, and it makes me feel like I’ve done something good. Because I have. I’ve taken another step towards being responsible for my own food source. Is raising backyard chickens cheaper than buying store-bought? Hell no. But the piece of mind I’m given knowing my eggs are fresh, my chickens are healthy and happy, and truly free range? You can’t put a price on that.