And then there were chickens!

Somewhere along the timeline, I decided I wanted chickens. At first I think I was joking. I love animals and have always believed the more the merrier. Then I noticed a house by the park with a chicken coop. It wasn’t stinky, there weren’t rats and flies circling it. The chickens were friendly and seriously cute. The boy went off to preschool and they had chickens. I loved to visit the chickens at pick-up time. They were always giving away eggs with such gorgeous golden yolks and pretty brown shells. They even had chickens at the Occidental Ecology Center. More and more, I wanted chickens. Jonathan kept saying no. He was afraid they would be running the streets wild and that we would be inundated by rats and other yucky critters. I started wandering the internet, reading about chickens, breeds, feed, housing, you name it. I told Jonathan about what I was reading and finally, one morning he gave in with one condition, “that we get one of those chickens with the feather pants”. I met him at the feed store that same day. We planned to bring home 6 chicks. We intended to have 5 hens and figured that chicks would be fragile and at least one might not make it to adulthood. When we arrived at the feed store the boy fell in love with a little Ameraucana chick and Jonathan found out that they had Cochin chicks in the brooder. We brought home 8 chicks. We set up our 2 Rhode Island Reds, 2 Barred Plymouth Rocks, 2 Buff Orpingtons, 1 Ameraucana, and 1 feather pants wearing Cochin in the upstairs bathroom in a cardboard box filled with pine shavings. We gave our little egg shaped friends medicated chick feed, water and a heat lamp. They grew well and soon, we had 8 young chickens. We watched them play and schedule their pecking order. We watched Ruby and Lulu fight for top chicken. They’d fly at each other, slamming their chests together. Well, soon Ruby began to crow. We rehomed Ruby and within a day Lulu began to crow. Lulu also had to live somewhere else. Our mostly tolerant neighbors were not pleased with a crowing rooster in the hood.
Jonathan built them this fantastic Tractor with wheels so that we could roll it around the garden. Chicken poop is great for the garden and we did wheel it around every couple of days for a little while. The truth was that it was really heavy and our garden is really lumpy and it was difficult for one person to move. It began to stay put for weeks on end. We’d move it somewhere new every once in a while. The chickens free ranged most days. Just as I had promised they would not. They were so happy wandering the garden. The problem is that chickens destroy gardens. I mean they really destroy gardens. They dig up everything and eat every seedling. We don’t have any snails or slugs but we don’t have any crops either. They love squash and cukes and bean plants and tomatoes.


Meg the orp will happily spend her whole day in the Sungold plant waiting for them to ripen and then jump up and eat the tiny tomato in one snap of her beak. Plus, there’s the poop. It’s everywhere. On the sidewalk, the patio, the patio furniture, the grass. Everywhere. And if that weren’t gross enough, if we leave the backdoor open the chickens come into the house looking for dog kibble or other tasty snacks. Dottie is always the first in. She’s so sweet and always says hello but then she poops on the kitchen floor and that is simply not the way friends treat each other.
There have been trials and tribulations, accidental injuries, raccoon decimations, replacements and disappearances. Come Spring of 2008, we had a flock of 5. Our red laced blue Wyandotte wasn’t happy without her silkie friend so she went off to live in Marin. With only 4 layers, we never had any excess eggs. If I wanted to bake I had to buy eggs at the market. We began fortifying our flock. We added: 2 Buff Orps, 2 Cali Whites, 1 gold laced Wyandotte, 1 more Ameraucana. Then I saw someone with the most incredible eggs. They were dark and shiny, almost mahogany colored. I had to have eggs like that! I went back to the internet and found that I needed a Cukoo Marans. I found one in Cotati. Joan, the chicken queen always has just the right chicks. I also found Jonathan a new feather pants. This one was a very expensive ($15) blue cochin which I spent nearly $10 in gas to fetch. Given that most chicks cost $5 at the most, this was one precious chick.



More trials and tribulations: Coco, the Wyandotte, was injured by Indy, the puppy, and had to go the vet. My vet won’t see chickens. I guess they creep her out. I read on the net that there was a local doctor who loves chickens. Off I went to see Dr. Dan the chicken man. Now, this was a young chicken. Maybe 2 or 3 months old. She cost us $3.50 and frankly she wasn’t all that friendly. She went to the vet because I’m too “chicken” to put a chicken out of her misery and Jonathan wasn’t home. I thought Dr. Dan would just euthanize. Dr. Dan the chicken man said the injury was totally treatable and I made a quick mental note that because I allowed her to be injured by my puppy that the guilt was worth approximately the cost of dinner. So I was guessing I would top out around $50 in vet fees for my $3 chicken. Well, Dr. Dan says, the Gold Standard treatment would be to sedate, suture and treat with pain meds and antibiotics, $150. I’m sure you readers can imagine that I asked what the other options were. Next down the list was bandage it well, change bandages every other day until the wound sugars, treat with pain meds and antibiotics. Cost: Visit, meds, and he would waive the bandaging fee because we had been in the waiting room for over an hour before we were seen. Quick math (based on what my beloved Dr. Sue charges to see the rest of my critters) $24 bucks for visit, $15 each for meds. I look at Dr. Dan and say, “okay, let’s do that. But, pain meds? For a chicken? Really? Are those necessary?”. He looks at me like I’m a total bitch and says that yes pain meds are important, that this is a very deep wound and must really hurt. He's just met me. He doesn't know how much time and money I've spent on my cats and dogs. I quickly realize that I should smile and nod because you never know when you might need a chicken vet.
He shows me how to bandage a chicken. Advising me to provide lots of padding to allow breathing room and explains that her skin will turn green as it heals and I should not be alarmed. He shows me how to give my chicken her liquid meds via beak. Being careful not to send the meds down her windpipe and drown her. I gather my chicken and my boy. I notice that the clock has been ticking and it is now too late to get home and get dinner on the table while still getting the boy into bed on time (school night). So, there I am, standing at the front desk, waiting, counting what’s left in my wallet. Trying to figure out which fast food chain I’ll be driving through on the way home with a chicken in my lap. Did I mention that I was waiting? I waited another 15 minutes just to pay the bill. When they finally accepted my money, they wanted eighty five dollars. $85!! For a chicken we don’t even like! Nice! I gave my final twenty to Carl’s Junior and went home to medicate my chicken.
Lessons learned:
Chickens are more durable than I thought.
How to bandage a chicken without strangling
Green skin while healing, Gross!
What the inside of a chickens mouth looks like, very strange indeed.
The term “sugaring” in wound terminology, a whole new view of creme brulee.

Plus, I figure that $85 bucks earned me some future cred with Dr. Dan the chicken man if and when one of my favorite chickens needs medical attention.

Then, little Penelope the blue cochin was sick. We couldn’t figure it out. We asked the internet but she didn’t make it. We sent her body off to UC Davis to be examined. FOR FREE. Thanks to the local online chicken community for this option. They called and emailed with the results. One MALE chick. Vitamin A deficiency. It turns out that chick feed must be really fresh and kept airtight in a dark place or the vitamins will escape into the ether. Huh, now we know. It would have been nice to know before some sweet young critter lost a life. Funny though, that it was another MALE!

I added the last 2 blue cochin chicks from Meyer Hatchery onto another local chicken keepers order and in July we had 2 little balls of fluff to raise. They are named Meyer and Pepper and are growing steadily. They now spend their days with the hens and their nights in a box in the kitchen. Uh oh, I think one of them just crowed.