Day 924 Counting my Chickens

 

I don’t even mind that my friends think of me whenever they see chickens. The "crazy chicken lady" label isn’t so crazy these days with egg prices soaring at such rapid rates. The truth is, everyone loves chickens—or at least a good chicken dinner!

Once again, Tim and I were woken up in the wee hours of the morning, alerted to a potential threat to our girls. Tim is quick to jump out of bed, throw on shoes, grab a bat, and run outside to face whatever might be lurking in the night. It seems these threats often appear when the weather’s cold, rainy, and windy. Poor Tim is out there in his underwear, armed only with a bat. I watch from the warmth of the bedroom, able to look down onto the coop and alert Tim to what I see from above. The two of us make quite the pair!

Together, we've protected our girls from raccoons, skunks, minks, opossums, coyotes, and, of course, Mr. Fox and his friends. Wild animals are hungry, especially in the cold winter months, and a coop full of fat hens would be a feast for them and their families. For those who think chicken care is tough—mucking out the coop, feeding, watering, and collecting eggs—that’s nothing compared to predator proofing and being on watch.

Our motion-sensor solar lights around the coop help alert us to visitors, but once we're aware, it’s up to us to confront the uninvited guests. Although our coop and run are fenced, locked, and appear to be predator-proof, there’s always the nagging fear that a way in could be discovered. Each morning when I go out to greet my girls, I’m thrilled to count them and see that they’re all still safe.

Egg prices may be rising, but for now, my girls are blissfully happy, and egg production is picking up speed. As the days become longer, I see it not only in the daylight but also in the nesting boxes. Hopefully, the predators will back off, knowing they can’t get a meal from our flock. But I doubt it. Predators will never stop trying, just as Tim and I will never let our guard down as we protect our girls.

Mr. Fox took my Silvia back in the spring, and I haven’t forgotten. Unfortunately, I’d guess he hasn’t forgotten either, remembering his delicious chicken dinner and coming back for seconds. My sweet girls usually don’t even know the dangers they’ve avoided, thanks to Tim and his bat, and me on watch from the upstairs window.

I do love my chickens—and all the chicken-themed gifts that come my way. It’s more than a hobby; it’s a passion, a responsibility, and, above all, a commitment to keeping our girls safe. 

Here’s to many more safe, happy mornings with our flock—No matter the price of eggs, my girls are priceless to me.