The Crumbling Impenetrable Fortress

Yesterday the cat got in our chicken coop. Today, a chicken got out. Seriously?




There's nothing quite like casually looking out the window and seeing one of your precious Rhode Island Reds strolling around your backyard on the wrong side of the chicken wire (She's precious because she's one of the few laying at the moment). All I could think was how in the HECK did she get out? I'm still thinking that now because I never figured it out. Luckily miss Callie was cooperative and let me pick her up and put her on the right side of the wire with no hassle, fuss, or unwanted exercise--and by that, I mean I didn't have to chase her down. The last time a chicken escaped, I spent 20 minutes trying to get a hold of her. It was a wasted effort because even though I managed to get her back inside, a fox did too and had her for a midnight snack.




I suppose it worked out for the better. Callie's escapade led me to a freshly laid egg right in the middle of the run. I think another lady finally started laying! It's about time. Out of the 8 hens we have only two (maybe three now) are earning their keep. They're well past 30 weeks, too. I just hope the egg in the run thing was a rookie mistake and she figures out where she's supposed to lay.




As for Callie escaping, my best guess is that it was a glitch in the matrix. Hopefully it won't happen again!




And then there's the matter of our pathetic excuse for a chicken castle... We have a lot of work to do this spring!

My Cat is in the Chicken Coop... Again!

As soon as I finished writing my last post, I look out the window and see my cat, Bella, climbing out of our chicken enclosure. And this morning after I fed the chickens, she was in it again!


So much for building an impenetrable fortress.


I'm pretty sure I've figured out how she got in, because I watched her quickly exit while I shouted choice words at her that I cannot repeat here. Somehow, she got under the storage building our coop is built against and tunneled under the chicken wire and into the run. All that work, but not to eat the chickens (thankfully), but to eat the left overs we give them. Apparently, her cat food isn't cutting it.


I can't imagine how she managed to get under the building in the first place. There's wooden lattice going around the entire bottom foot because it's about half a foot off the ground. There's only one spot where it's missing, and that's on the inside of the run. Somehow, she must have squeezed her fat self through the lattice. That's the only way, unless she's pulled an El Chapo and tunneled in from somewhere else out of sight. Either way, I blocked off her entry point into the run with a very heavy bag of rocks. She shouldn't be able to get in, unless she's been juicing up with the shady cat next door. He hangs around the coop a lot. I don't trust him.


If I've learned one thing, it's that your chickens are never safe. And maybe the reason they call them crazy cat ladies is because the cats drive them crazy. Or because they raise hell and you'd be crazy to still love them, but you do and you can't help yourself. It's probably both.


Of all the potential predators, I figured my cat would be relatively easy to keep out, because she gets fed and isn't dependent on hunting or finding another food source. But that fat twat is giving me more trouble than anything else at the moment. I can only hope she's the only animal taking up breaking and entering and burglary as a side hobby. But I have the feeling she's just the first of many to try their hand at coop invasion this winter. Stay tuned!

Chicken Castles

Being a backyard farmer isn't easy, especially with a lack of experience.

Well, I'm not completely inexperienced.

I did inherit a chicken from my cousin when I was younger. I think she may have been a Rhode Island Red, and I'm basing that on the fact that I remember she was brown and laid brown eggs--that's all I've got.

Helen (yes, I named her Helen) was a very friendly chicken. In fact, she loved escaping the coop my dad built and visiting the neighbors. Despite our best efforts, Helen was quite the escape artist. I probably should have named her Houdini.

I didn't realize it then, but if a full grown chicken is able to escape her coop, that's a bad sign. If things can get out, that means things can just as easily get in. And, unfortunately, that's exactly what happened. We're not sure what, but something paid Helen a midnight visit and turned her into a midnight snack, leaving nothing but a few feathers behind.

In my childish naivety, I thought maybe she got out again. I thought she was taking a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood. But, after a quick search in neighboring backyards, it was clear Helen was not coming back. Crestfallen, I could only assume the worst.

That was my first attempt at being a backyard farmer, and I wouldn't exactly call it successful. Well, I wouldn't call my next few attempts successful either. Looking back, I wish I would have remembered Helen's story before I tried again. Maybe I would have realized that chicken coops just don't cut it. No, to keep your chickens in and predators out, you need a chicken castle.

Last week I would have thought we finally achieved chicken castle status. I mean, the entire thing is enclosed with chicken wire, the perimeter has concrete-filled trenches around it, and the actual coop is two and a half feet off the ground. Impenetrable!

Not quite.

I've caught the cat in there three times last week, and something, I'm not sure what, is digging under the steel wire tunnel we made for them to run around in. So impenetrable.

You see, building a coop isn't just about keeping chickens in, but keeping everything else out. And everything else will find a way in. It's not a matter of if, but when. 

And when everything else gets in, you will be overcome with anger and sadness as you walk into an empty coop, just like I was (a few times, unfortunately).

So forget building chicken coops. If you want to be a successful backyard farmer, build chicken castles, and never ever assume your chickens are safe. Believe me, I failed at those two things the entire summer, and not surprisingly, failed (epically) at being a backyard farmer.

And I didn't start succeeding until my chickens had a castle to call their own, concrete moat and everything.

The Beginnings of a Backyard Farmer

When I was a little girl, I wanted to live on a farm. However, my parents always lived in modest houses with modest yards, so I came to the conclusion the only way to reach this goal was to marry a farmer. Well, that didn't happen either.

Up until a year ago, the closest I actually came to achieving this goal was the few years my parents lived out in the country in a small town. Everyone around us had a farm. The people behind us had goats and chickens, the guy on one side had horses, dogs, and cats, and the people across the street had cows. That might be ideal for some people--all of the perks and none of the work--but not me. I wanted the work that came with it. I wanted it to be mine. But why?

Why would a girl that grew up in the suburbs want a farm? I didn't have any living farmers in my family; I didn't regularly visit anyone I knew that had a farm. Really, I didn't have any connections to the farm life at all. Maybe it started when I inherited a chicken as a kid, or maybe I saw a farm in a movie or book and idolized that way of life. It doesn't really matter how it started, but instead, where it takes me.

I didn't marry a farmer, but I married a man who supports my farm goals. In January, we bought a modest house on modest land, with a lovely fenced in backyard, and that spring, my sweet husband built me a chicken coop and got half a dozen chicks from a local feed store.

With absolutely no knowledge other than what google could provide, we took the first step into becoming farmers, and stumbled, tripped, and barrel-rolled through the innumerable hurdles we encountered in a matter of months. It was a very emotional journey and more difficult than I could have ever predicted it would be, and it's still far from over. In fact, it's hardly begun, because I'm in the farming game for the long-haul. I just hope I make it out with my sanity.

So far, so good.