I love chicken. Roasted chicken, baked chicken, fried chicken, chicken kabobs, jerk chicken, pesto chicken, chicken… OK, OK — I may be sounding a bit like Bubba on “Forrest Gump” — but I get his passion. There are so many ways to love chicken.
Xandy, if he had his way, would have nothing to do with the critters, save the three or so that we have for eggs. Here’s one now:
Xandy’s father Mark tried his hand at chickens for a while. He even had a chicken house built which stands on the property to this day.
After six years of prodding, Xandy has decided to give into my chicken obsession and we are venturing into raising meat birds. We are starting small, of course, as we have no idea how this is going to work.
For the past month, we have been raising 24 Red Rangers in the barn until they are large enough to be outside. Today, one by one, we scooped them up and let them into their new home outside the barn. The scooping process was a story in itself, as we ran from place to place chasing the damn things. I kept telling them that they’d like where they were going so they needed to calm the hell down. They finally listened:
Yup. The thing is electric. We checked it with a voltage meter, but Mark’s dog Molly let us know by touching her nose to it just how powerful the charge is. The chickens, however, barely noticed. As Xandy said, they are “fully insulated.”
After 20 minutes or so they learned the ropes (or the fence, I suppose). They have figured out water and the shade/element hut that Xandy built.
Now all we have to worry about are the cows. Let’s hope they figure out the fence and don’t go letting loose the chickens.
Lakota is excited to see how this all works:
The experiment continues.