Free Range Chickens: Chicken Story Part 1
“Someday,” I told one of our apprenticeship families the other week, “I’m going to write an article for one of the horse magazines about the value of combining free range chickens with horse keeping.”
Most of the older books about life in the country feature some chickens pecking around the barnyard. Now I know why—even aside from the treasure-trove of eggs we run across from time to time.
Our adventure with free range hens started a year ago last October, when one of our church families asked if we might be interested in taking on their chickens, large portable coop and all. Their daughter (who had gotten the chicken project going originally) had left for college, the chickens had refused to lay even an egg for close to a year, the neighbor dog had gotten a hold of one or two of them, and everyone was tired of taking care of pretty much useless chickens.
I talked to my husband. We already had a small portable coop and grazing pen with several chickens and enjoyed fresh eggs when they were laying. Perhaps because of that, somehow we got past his plaintive “No more animals!” and went off to collect the eight hens, large supposedly-portable chicken house, and sundry supplies.
With most of their family and some of ours, we managed to boost the coop onto DJ’s largest trailer. To make it fit, the guys removed the wheels “for now”. End of portability of the coop. The wheels have never made it back on, and the coop still sits exactly where it was “temporarily” unloaded that first night.
The chickens were absolutely beautiful, with a pair each of various types of special breeds that the owners couldn’t identify. For the first few days, the chickens stayed in the coop while our dogs circled and sniffed at the newcomers. Then came the day I opened the small side door. No longer did the entrance lead through a wire hallway to an attached grazing pen. Now it opened to—freedom! Nearly four acres of pasture and yard filled with delectable bugs and worms and pasture and horse manure.
That night at dusk they faithfully returned to their home coop and I shut them in securely. Thus it went for some weeks. We introduced them to our dogs, scolding them firmly if they even looked sideways at the birds, and found we could pretty much trust them together. Morning –out. Evening—in, hatches latched and everyone secured.
Our daughter’s wedding got nearer. It got harder and harder to get the coop doors latched at dusk. I might get back at 10, or even midnight. Each time I peered in with my flashlight, counted eight contented hens, and secured everything tightly. Occasionally I missed a night altogether. The hens were still okay. Then one of the doors came loose. DJ was busy and it didn’t get repaired for awhile. Meanwhile the hens seemed fine. I thanked the Lord and appreciated our guard dogs, and quit making the treks through electric fence to the pasture evening and morning to batten and unbatten the hatches. The hens started laying eggs. Abundantly. In the almost two years since, only one chicken has disappeared, although we’ve lost a few and gained a few otherwise.