I know it’s a little bit odd to be getting chickens in August, but as of today our homestead is now home to eight egg laying hens.
Some of our friends are moving and needed a local home for their laying hens. Another one of our friends was giving up their old chicken coop so we figured it was a sign from the universe that it was time for us to become chicken people.
My husband has spent the last two weekends repainting the coop, installing predator fencing, and otherwise preparing for the arrival of the chickens. Having not done the work of raising them up ourselves the pressure is on to make sure they are well protected.
You can’t just take on a friend’s chickens without feeling just a bit more responsibility than you otherwise would had you raised them up from chicks ourselves. We can’t let a literal fox into the henhouse.
This is alas real possibility as a red fox roams our pastures. We’ve got a very tasty infestation of prairie dogs that are suitably stupid enough for an even moderately clever fox. Hopefully the 18 inch predator apron is suitably troublesome to keep our all but the most enterprising. We’d rather the prairie dogs remain the easy snack and our hens too much effort.
The funniest bit of all of this is that I am slightly intolerant to eggs. I can manage eggs in a baked good I find omelettes, quiches and even mayonnaise to a quick path to nausea. Even the smell of eggs being scrambled makes me a bit sick to my stomach.
But I’ve got a fantasy that industrial eggs are the problem and I could come to tolerate eggs from chickens living the good life roaming around our lovely Montana land. And if not we will give them to our neighbors. If we can find one that doesn’t have their own chickens.