fluffy butts

My chickens… I love them.

Photo by Brenda Timmermans on Pexels.com

For those of you who have never had the pleasure of raising chickens, let me tell ya… getting started is… interesting. I probably should have read a little more prior to getting them, but it’s been a fun adventure so far.

Did you know that to be successful that you need to have at least 2, and preferably more chickens? Yeah…me neither. I have 8 of them…now. I started with 6. Then got 6 more. Then 2 were killed. Then got 6 more. Then 4 died or were killed. Then got 6 more. I kept getting sucked in when they were little and fuzzy and cute. Then over the last two months, lost more and now have 8. They survived us being gone for this last week, so I think these are my champions.

Have you ever seen a “teenage” chicken? Those things look awkward as fuck. Their soft chick feathers become straggly and fall out so their adult feathers can grow in.

The live in a kids playhouse that has been on our property for approximately 40 years. I even put a sign above the door that reads “Fluffy Butt Hutt”. I’m in the process of painting it red to match the barn…but humid, hot weather and I do not agree. Maybe I’ll do it in fall. I have all the supplies, I just need to actually do it.

They have an area of approximately 50×50 that is fenced in that they can escape from the kids or the dogs, however, most of the time they choose to fly out and wander around the yard. It is not uncommon for me to come home and have chickens running at me from every direction.

They have names: Nugget, Buffalo, Drumstick, Star, Muffin, Casserole, Milky Way, and Dixie. However, I can’t keep them straight except for Buffalo, because she is my favorite. They all have little zip ties loosely on their legs so the kids can tell them apart. They don’t answer to their names, but my daughter has trained them that anytime she feeds them she yells “hey ladies…” in a sing-song voice… so now when they hear that, they will come running from across the yard because they know what it means.

Even though they aren’t “snuggle” animals, my kids will chase them until they catch them so they can give them a hug. Crazy kids.

Butt nuggets. It sounds like something I would say when I knew that I shouldn’t swear. However, it’s not. It’s what I like to call the eggs that I get from my chickens. We have patiently been waiting for these butt nuggets to arrive. Counting the weeks from when we got the first chicks to when we “should” get eggs. When we arrived home from vacation last night, I was surprised to find 7 eggs in the coop! I’m not sure if that was the work of one chicken or multiple, but yay! Go girl(s)!!

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

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