Crazy Chicken Lady

When Jackie went to the Ace Coop to buy diatinacious earth for her chickens, upon asking if they had any diatinacious earth, the man replied, "Are you one of those new age, hippy dippy chicken ladies?" And so - our cult is born. We're Crazy Chicken Ladies. Right now, my back yard looks like a microcosm of a farm . . . straw everywhere (because I'm trying to grow some grass in a couple of spots and because straw everywhere is fun) swing set in the middle, and 1/4 of the yard - okay maybe more like 1/3 of the yard corralled off into a sort of chicken grotto, or chicken courtyard as Andrew calls it. Inside of the chicken courtyard, is a small silver trash can full of scratch. Chicken scratch is EVERYWHERE in the courtyard because every time the girls visit the courtyard, they have to throw scratch, right? There is our composter, the chicken coop proper, which houses our two hens, their chicken run, which is fool proof for dogs and cats and the like and then the brooder. Okay, its not a brooder, its a fabulous chicky palace. A giant, plastic, white with pink and green shutters and doors, Lil' Tikes playhouse full of 13 baby (but getting big way too fast) chickens. Right now, it is glowing in the dark like a Christmas time display because I have a red heat lamp inside and also a space heater inside a crate so that they don't singe their little feathers. My backyard is small - crazy small and FULL of an acre's worth of farm fun. It is so rad. I decided to bag the gardening this season in favor of the chicken brooding. I am so hooked on chickens. I LOVE THEM! They are seriously the most favorite pet I've ever had - and I've had a lot of pets. I had a total of seven dogs growing up, two cats, one hamster and a bird, but nothing comes close to these chickens. Okay, maybe the bird, who's name escapes me. We left its cage unlocked and it would push the door open in the morning, hop down two flights of stairs, walk into my room, crawl up the blankets onto my pillow and chirp me out of bed.

Having had dogs my whole life, I can honestly say that I prefer the chicken to the dog. Why do dogs get such royal status anyway? What is it about one animal that makes it somehow more important than another? Chickens are every bit as social and endearing than any dog and as opposed to dogs, chickens actually give something (good) back! Eggs and great doo doo for the garden.

Since falling so in love with chickens, it has been increasingly hard to EAT chicken. I've cut my meat consumption down to maybe about once/week and only the grass fed, happy cow meat and Maverick Ranch chicken, although I've come to realize that Maverick Ranch chicken isn't much if any better than regular chicken except for maybe less junk pumped into but the factory raising and slaughtering is still the same - oh dear am I getting onto my soap box? I've been reading, "EATING ANIMALS," by Johnathan Safran Foer and it makes an extremely convincing case for vegetarianism, if not veganism, unless you do it all yourself. Since I don't plan on killing anything in the near future, looks like I'm down to raising hens for eggs. So huge props to all you hardcore vegetarians and if you haven't read "Eating Animals," yet, I highly recommend it . . . even the most hardcore 'meat tooths' out there will have a hard time eating meat after reading this book. So, I guess I'm weaning myself from the meat, and dreaming of a giant free range, happy chicken ranch, where I can raise chickens for eggs.

I better get to bed. The chickies are spending their first night outside in the playhouse (they've been in a series of taped together boxes in the garage) and so I'm sure I'll be up half the night worried sick. If they'd just be quiet and go to sleep I'd not worry so much, but as it is, they are chirping and chirping, so I'm afraid they'll be chumming in the owls and such.