We built a new chicken house (I’ll be sure to get pictures to share soon!). The hens seemed to love it. Then they all shared a dust bath–which cause a hole–which they all decided to wiggle out of.

And here we are with free range chickens again. {smile}

I’m sure I know who the ring-leader of the escape was. See that black hen there. Her. Definitely her.

There’s two small problems with this.

1. They leave piles of chicken…um…waste everywhere.

I mean everywhere! And especially underneath of wherever they decide to roost for the night. 15 roosting chickens can create quite a landscape under their roosting bar after a few days! And their favorite place to roost outside of the coop is on a ladder in the lean-to. A ladder which happens to hang on the wall directly over either the lawn mower or the tractor, whichever is parked there.

Mr. Fix-It loves the chickens.

He does not love piles of nitrogen-heavy chicken…er…waste on his tractors. It peels the paint, my friends. Peels the paint.

2. Coal.

That’s probably enough said.

But in case not, let me explain further…young, high-energy herding dog + squawking, flapping chickens = disaster.

His favorite game is to chase them down, then pin them down, and slowly and methodically pull their feathers out one mouthful at a time.

Of course, he never has time to be methodical, because I’m usually screaming up on him from across the farm, so his second most favorite game ever is to run them down, tackle them, and start frantically ripping all their feathers out by the mouthful. Contrary to normal expectation, he really isn’t trying to kill them. He’s not growling and trying to rip in and eat them or anything. And if they’re in the field or in their pen, he pretty much ignores them. It’s just when they run. {sigh}

So everyone is better off when they stay. in. the. coop.

Over the last couple weeks I have Coal-proofed the backyard, so the chickens are reasonably safe–as long as they stay out front. But they usually don’t…

Coal and I stepped out on the back porch for our morning walk one morning and there was a hen in the backyard. He shot off the porch like an arrow and she freaked out and tried to fly off–but flew straight into the side of the garage instead. Knocked herself out cold. Coal raced over and grabbed her by one leg and started dragging her around the yard like a stuffed animal, me hollering and chasing after him. The sight of me in my pjs and muck boots, yelling like a crazy lady (complete with crazy bed head!) and tripping over his most recent digging-to-China project because I didn’t have my contacts in, seemed to scare him pretty bad and he gave up sooner than normal.

I carried her limp little body back to the chicken house and took him for his walk. When we got back and I checked on her, she was fine, although a little ruffled.

I also find it aggravating out of all proportion to the problem that Penny, a reformed chicken-chaser herself, automatically thinks if he can she can. Instead of setting a good example, she throws 3 years of training to the wind and becomes his partner in crime. (He has the affect on people. Just ask Mr. No Dogs On the Bed, oh, I meant Mr. No People Food for the Dogs, oh wait, I meant Mr. Fix-It.)

So, as much as we enjoy having them out and about the yard with us, we prefer for them to be tucked safely in their coop. Or even out in the field, but staying in the field with the other livestock. (Coal learned about hot fences pretty quickly!) It keeps everyone safer, and the eggs easier to find! So guess what I’ll be doing this weekend! {smile}

How about you? Big plans to enjoy the nice weather? (Will you be having nice weather?) 

And don’t forget, we’ve got the May issue of our monthly newsletter going out this weekend. Be sure to sign up. We’ll have all things fiber, fiber arts, and fiber fun this month. And some of my favorite easy, sheep-y, crafts.

See where I’m sharing…