Secret Agent Chicken

The wyandottes go undercover in their quest for all things yummy.

How many chickens do you see?

Forgotten chickens

Apparently the Universe does not want me to have chickens. I am still chicken-less. I thought I was being proactive to order said chickens back in February for an April 23rd delivery. I mean, really. For a first class procrastinator, ordering those suckers two months in advance was huge. Clearly that was the wrong approach for my life. Clearly the Universe was thrown for a loop as generally I am Queen of the Impulse when it comes to pet accumulation.

What I should have done is woken up on say April 20th and thought, "Hmmm... perhaps I should add some chickens to the family..." Had I done that I would have not only received my chicks, but the hatchery would have thrown in an extra dozen, just because I wasn't prepared. Instead I carefully studied up on chicken ownership, checked out chicken forums online, asked advice about breeds and hatcheries and whatnot. I pored over the chicken catalogue picking out the best breeds for my and my world (okay... really I picked the funkiest chickens on there because they cracked me up, but...). I ordered a herd of chicks and timed it so they would show up on the last day of class when I had gobs of time to devote to their health and well-being.

Did I get chickens in the mail on April 23rd. Nope. Not nary a chick anywhere. The hatchery forgot. Yup. That's what they said. "We forgot to mail them. At least we think we forgot to mail them. If you get a box of chickens in the mail, will you call us?" No lie. That is what they said. They're going to try again next week. We hope.

So the moral of our story today, boys and girls, is don't screw with the Universe. It knows if you are a procrastinator and if you try to fool it, it will hide your box of chickens.

The chickens are coming!

If you live on a farm, you must have livestock. It's a rule. As my farm is pretty tiny, I can only handle tiny livestock. As appealing as cows and goats are, they have no usable byproduct other than milk and I'm pretty sure that I won't roll out of bed at the crack of dawn to milk those suckers. If they could keep to a reasonable schedule of say perhaps 9-ish or so, then maybe. But they would explode if it were up to me to keep them milked if it had to happen at dawn.

I'm also pretty sure that I couldn't raise anything for meat. If I had to slaughter my own meat, I would turn into a vegetarian. Yes, yes... that is terribly hypocritical of me, I know. I do love a big ol' grilled steak or a nice, juicy hamburger. But once that animal is in my yard it has a name and is a pet. I just can't fathom eating Fluffy the Cow after raising Fluffy from calfhood.

So chickens are about the only form of livestock that I think I can handle at this point. They're pretty little and they generate an edible byproduct that doesn't involve me slaughtering anything. Plus, rumor has it that they eat ticks and fleas. At this point, if giraffes ate ticks and fleas I would have a herd of them. My little stretch of country is, sadly, infested. I hate the little buggers. I have declared war on the flea and tick population and the chickens are my Weapon of Mass Destruction.

So the chickens are coming. This week, in fact. My first order of 15 chicks will be here on Wednesday. Stay tuned as the chicken extravaganza unfolds!