We are proud to introduce this issue’s “So I Tried It…” guest contributor, Jude Fletcher. Jude is a San Francisco Bay Area journalist and recent convert to chicken husbandry. If you’ve ever considered becoming a backyard chicken farmer, read on.
To read about raising chickens, and to be the actual raiser of the chickens are two different things. In my case, though, I have found the experience to be much more enjoyable than what the books predicted. Most of these publications are focused on "poultry" and "egg production." While eggs were in large part the objective in obtaining our chickens, raising poultry certainly was not. When one brings these little peepers into one's home, just days old, Chicken Cordon Bleu does not immediately spring to mind. What happens is that these tiny chicks bring out whatever bit of maternal instinct one has, and that may be a surprise for those that thought they had none, especially toward a chicken.
A case in point: the photograph above, a photograph of Betty, my favorite girl. She came to us from a feed store in San Pablo, CA, once a rural outpost, but now unmistakingly urban and a rather strange location for such a place. Betty cost $2.00, less than the merchandise some of the "self-employed entrepreneurs" were selling on the nearby streets. Betty is a beautiful girl, and is a New Hampshire Red. Bringing home Betty was a spur of the moment decision made by my partner, Dave, who had wanted them ever since he read about raising chickens in Organic Gardening magazine.
When Betty, and her pal, Veronica, arrived, we placed them in a box, with a clamp-on lamp over them to keep them warm. They were two and three days old, respectively; Betty was the smaller of the two, and seemed to be a rather frightened chick, relying on Veronica for warmth and comfort, always trying to sit underneath her. However, listening to their little peeps quickly prompts one to keep them in one’s lap, snuggled up and warm, preferably on washable towels or rags. They quickly became part of the family, on our laps while watching TV, taking the afternoon nap with Dave. He built a larger pen for the tabletop, and Betty became a very sensitive and sweet little companion. I would wash the dishes with a chick on each shoulder, as they would peep so much if you weren’t near them.
Around the age of three or four weeks, we began to take them outside for supervised pen time during the day, moving the chicken wire to different areas of the yard so they could take advantage of the variation of insects and plants that dwell in the sunnier and and shadier parts of the yard. And it enabled them to engage in a sort of permaculture as well. Finally, though, it became apparent Betty was getting too big to be kept in the small pen in the house, and too sassy to be in a house with two cats and a dog. Dave said no more after she pecked our dog in the nose. She would do just fine in the special coop Dave built for when we were away and could roam the yard when we were home. Although I miss watching TV with her, I still spend a lot of time with her outside, tanning or hanging the wash, and I’ll sit with her in the evenings in our basement where she spends the night in her indoor pen.
Some things to know about feeding the chicks: they need to have chick starter until they are fully feathered, which is about two months. After that, regular scratch will do, as by then the larger particles can be more easily digested. Betty is usually outdoors, so she is able to eat greens and insects, but we’re also looking into the idea of using composting worms for an additional protein source. Vegetable table scraps are good for chickens, too. Very important is fresh, clean water, and lots of it. Chickens drink a lot more than one would think. A self-waterer is good, but it must be large enough so as not to tip over during a hot day, leaving the chicks in danger of dehydration. A large low bowl will do, if necessary. We keep water bowls around the yard for all the wildlife that passes through, and the chickens benefit as well. Once Betty starts to lay, she’ll get laying mash, in addition to the scratch.
Speaking of laying, Betty has grown into a lovely young lady. She’s tall, sort of strawberry blond, with beautiful gold eyes, a large coral comb and wattles, and dark green iridescent tail feathers. She’s not a timid girl in the least, and has no problem holding her own in the yard. Betty mingles with the deer, won’t let the squirrels near her feed, and even takes on the scrappy scrub jays. She’s quick and very smart, and has taken to following me around the yard, which I love. She’s becoming a big girl – the first day she clucked instead of peeped, I got a little choked up. Now it won’t be long until we have eggs, although I’m in no hurry for that. I’ve almost forgotten that eggs were the idea behind having chickens. While some chickens start to lay at five and a half months, New Hampshire Reds take a bit longer to mature, possibly seven and a half months. Betty could be laying eggs within three months.
However, another question has come to mind, and that is whether Betty is a pullet or a rooster. If her comb and wattles continue to grow at the rate they have, and if she continues to get much taller, the guy at the feed store may have to eat his words. He told us they were “guaranteed hens,” but backtracked on that statement when we called him last week to ask about Betty. He said the company he bought them from said that, and that was all he knew. I say she’s a girl, but my neighbors have their suspicions. Whatever – if she’s a rooster, then we’ll just have more chicks, and that is fine with me.
Oh, by the way, don’t tell Dave, but when he’s not home, I let Betty in the house to sit on the couch with me. I can’t help it--she just follows me in and hops on my lap. That’s my girl!
 Managing Editor’s note: Will Betty lay an egg? Can Betty lay an egg? Find out in the next installment of the chicken diaries, in our Holiday issue of GreenHomeLiving.
Have questions for Jude? Send them to editor@greenhome.com.
Other interesting reading about raising chickens:
•Dave originally read about chickens in the September/October 2001 issue of Organic Gardening, a Rodale Publication.
•In the Spring of 2001 New York Times food critic William Grimes wrote some delightful columns about a chicken that mysteriously appeared in his backyard. He became fascinated with it, and began to chronicle its every activity in the yard. Then one day, as mysteriously as it had arrived, it vanished. He was devastated and you are, too.
He’s turned the story into a book, My Fine Feathered Friend.
Check out the columns or the book. You will be charmed.
Mr. Grimes New York Times Columns and related reader letters:
Lost: One Black Chicken. Owners Bereft.
About That Chicken; The Chicken as a Dove.
About That Chicken; The Little Brown Hen.
About That Chicken; A Question of Leftovers.
It Came. It Clucked. It Conquered.
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