Genesis
Jack & I had talked about getting some backyard chickens
for a while. Having pets that laid eggs sounded wonderful, and there were
already several coops on the street.
This spring we had an opportunity to share in chicken
ownership with some neighbours, a ‘coop co-op’ if you will. We’d get the birds
as baby chicks that had graduated from incubation in an elementary school
classroom, then we’d raise them in a coop in a neighbour’s yard across the
street. Nothing ever goes quite as planned.
The farmer who graciously donated the eggs for the class,
gave us 2 dozen fertilized eggs in a great assortment of colourful breeds. The
incubator in the classroom, however, only had room for 18 of them. We tried and
failed to find room in another incubator in the area, before deciding to do it
ourselves. No, I didn’t strap 6 eggs into my bra for the 21 day incubation
period, but maybe worse, stuck them in the oven. We fiddled with the
temperature for a few days before putting the eggs in.
The setup |
(To the chicken experts out there: no, we didn’t have the
oven on, just the right combination of wattages of oven lights, and yes, we
provided ventilation and proper humidity, and yes we tilted the eggs 5 times
per day etc.)
We spent the next 3 weeks babysitting the oven to ensure
that the above was monitored properly.
Birth
In the morning of June 1st, the English Sparrows
that crowd around another neighbour’s chicken coop were louder than normal. It
took me a while to realize that the chirping was actually coming from the oven,
from inside one of the still-intact eggs. Human babies scream after they come
out, but apparently chickens do it to announce that they are about to arrive.
'June' still wet |
Within 30 minutes, “June” had arrived, sprawled out on the
floor of the box we’d prepared. Two hours later, “Bug” joined him.
'June' & 'Bug' |
But the rest did nothing. After 48 hours,
when all hope was lost, we removed the remaining 4 eggs. I opened one, to try
to see what happened, and found a little chick who was perfect, beautiful and
quite dead.
could not hatch |
We fell in love with our 2 little ones. There was no way
these birds were moving across the street. We wanted them to be OURS. Two chicks, however, is not a flock, so we
got 4 more from the same breeder. We then proceeded to brood them in our dining
room. Jack frantically built a coop, but not before we had a real “Green Acres”
situation inside the house.
'Ginger' Wallenda balances above her friends |
Cuddle time |
Free Ranging |
build faster! |
Dorian
Dorian (so-named because he was grey, beautiful, and, while friendly to us, not particularly nice to the other chickens) was the one who liked to perch on me. If I lowered my head to clean out a cage, Dorian would be the one to jump up onto my head, or neck or perch on my shoulder.
He was a
unique character, charming, adventurous, smart, and beautiful. He was my
friend. Right up to the moment that I drew a sharp blade across his
throat. Me sobbing.
'Dorian' 2:38 pm |
'Dorian' 2:56 pm |
Epilogue
While we all say we want to know our food, and where it came
from, I think few of us really want to know our food personally. Know their
personalities, habits, charms and faults. But if I don’t love my chickens,
don’t give them treats and names and observe their unique personalities, it doesn’t mean
they are any less unique individuals and deserving of love. It just means I
missed that opportunity.
Have a happy Thanksgiving. I know that this year we will be giving personal thanks to Dorian, June and Patience. I hadn’t eaten chicken in years before this adventure, but today they will be given centre-stage on our table.