Day 936 Labor of Love

 

If you've had enough of my chicken talk, then feel free to stop reading here—because I can't help myself! If you've been following along for a while, you might recognize Betty White. Although she wasn’t one of my original three, she joined the flock in the second batch and quickly became one of my favorite hens. Betty is a beautiful bird and has firmly established herself as the top of the pecking order. She runs a tight coop—every hen falls in line, and none dare cross her.

Every time I see Betty, I'm reminded of just how much of a miracle it is that she's still with us. The night of the mink attack, she was mere seconds away from being gone for good, but thanks to Tim's quick actions, she pulled through. She’s earned her place as the top hen, and I’m forever grateful to have her around.

Lately, with the rising cost of eggs, more people are envious of my girls and considering starting their own backyard flock. However, I’d caution anyone thinking of diving into this—it’s not as easy as it sounds. Raising chickens is a big commitment, with the top priority being their safety.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Everything wants to eat chicken! Keeping them safe from predators becomes a full-time job. We’ve had to secure the coop, fence the run, line the edges with bricks or rocks, and bury the fence line to ensure that there isn’t a single inch of space for a predator to slip through. Foxes will dig their way in, minks will find the tiniest entryway, and raccoons will get crafty, tearing through wire until they find a way inside. Even with a secure coop, there’s often a need for human intervention—usually in the wee hours of a cold, rainy night.

Our coop is definitely an eyesore, but it gets the job done. We’ve installed motion-activated lights to alert us when predators are nearby, and we often find ourselves outside in the dark, chasing off unwanted visitors. I honestly have no idea how much money we've invested in the monstrosity we’ve built, but it’s certainly more than the cost of a year’s worth of eggs. Chicken feed and scratch to keep our girls fat and happy aren't cheap either.

Then there’s the daily care: first thing in the morning, I make sure they have fresh, unfrozen water and plenty of feed and scratch. Later in the day, I give them another round of treats—table scraps, if they’re lucky—as I collect the eggs. The coop gets cleaned weekly, shoveling out the dirty bedding filled with chicken poop. It’s not the glamorous life that some people might imagine when they see a beautiful basket of colorful eggs. But behind that basket is a great deal of love and hard work.

My girls are more than just pets—they’re a source of daily joy. I love watching them, holding them, and seeing them run to greet me every time I step outside. Someone once asked me if they only run to me because they think I might feed them. Well, probably! But then again, I’d guess most dogs run to their owners hoping for a treat, too.

Betty is four years old now, and although the life expectancy of a chicken can vary, I know that after her near-death experience with that mink, she's been living on borrowed time. We're lucky to have her with us.

So, for anyone thinking about starting a homestead, don't be fooled by the beautiful eggs into thinking it’s all easy. It’s a lot of work, but even with the challenges, it’s a labor of love, so no work in my mind! 

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