Tom and Chickens

I never thought I would be so excited about having pet chickens. My husband and I talked about it for several years, but I just figured we were only talking. Between our three children ages 14, 12, and 7 our two dogs, five cats, five fish, a guinea pig and my almost 83 year old grandmother that lives with us I assumed we had enough to feed and clean up after.  Apparently I was wrong.

My husband has this unique way of getting himself out of trouble when he buys something or does something he knows I may get disgruntled about.  He says, “But we talked about it.”  I have learrned that when I am talking about something with my husband that to him this "talking" is the okay to go ahead to do something or buy something.  I have also learned over the last 15 years of marriage that when my husband and I are discussing something that may cost a lot of time or money that I have to throw in the disclaimer, “Now just because we are talking about this does not mean we are going to do it; we have to actually say we are going to do this and agree on it before we do it, right?” I know I may seem a bit like a controlling wife, but you must understand that this is a necessary prerequisite. If I did not make sure we were both on the same page, I would have just started reading the book and Tom would have already finished it and started the next one.  I really thought adding this clause for the last several years had him trained. We’ll talk, discuss, and put our thoughts out there and then come to a final agreement. It seemed to be working very well or so I thought. I want to reiterate this is only for big issues, he does not have to talk to me about buying a coffee from Starbucks or a new shaving kit; just things like a new car or bringing home 12 chickens.  Before we communicated in this way I would be subject to coming home to a garage full of bins filled with worms for worm composting or a Porsche Boxster in the driveway. My sigh always the same, “What in the world?”  His perplexed face always the same followed with “But we talked about it”.  He always looks adorable with his head tilted in complete confusion as to what he did wrong. I think, however, this is part of his act; I think I have him trained, he thinks he’s getting away with something, but in reality we are both just playing the game.

He won the game several months ago. I left to go out of town for a few days for some much needed R&R and when I got home I had quite the surprise waiting for me. Chickens! I have to admit part of me thought he was kidding when I called home to check in and he nonchalantly said, “We got six baby chicks today.” I thought to myself, yeah sure, he wouldn’t do that without me. My seven year old daughter got on the phone and excitedly proclaimed, “Mommy we got baby chicks, and they are sooooooo cute.” I still thought, yeah right, no way, because baby chicks grow up to be chickens and where are we going to put chickens.  I played along, or so I thought until I got home and sure enough there was a big plastic bin in our family room with six baby chicks inside. I looked at my husband and with a grin from ear to ear and head tilted he said, “But we talked about it.” 

He was right we had talked about it a lot.  We also talked about buying a small farm in the country, having another baby, going to New Zealand and buying an RV to take cross country; none of which have happened.  He proudly stood there looking over the six baby chicks he had built a temporary home for. They were chirping their little hearts out while hopping around the 3x5 plastic bin including food trough, water bottle, pine shavings, perch and heat lamp. They were adorable, but so are puppies and kittens and most any baby animal you can think of; even the ugly ones are so ugly they are cute when they are babies.  I picked one up. She was yellow, soft and fit in my hand. I was sold; just like I was with the other eight warm blooded creatures running around our house.

My thoughts quickly turned to the fact that these cute little chicks would grow up to be chickens; big, dirty, stinky, ugly chickens.  I asked my husband what we were going to do with them once they were too big to fit in the bin. He smiled and said, “I am going to build a coop.” I knew there wasn’t any reason to discuss this with him. He had a three day head start on me and I am sure he had already engineered the design for his next project; and so it began.

While Tom devotedly worked on building a home for our fast growing baby chicks, his mom (who lives next door to us) caught chicken fever.  She grew up on a farm in the mountains of Waynesboro, Virginia and this was reminiscent of her childhood. Unknowing to me she went out and got six baby chicks of her own and brought them over to live in the 3x5 bin with our 6 baby chicks. I came home, looked in the bin, walked outside, looked at Tom and he said, “Mom and I talked about it.” I hung my head in defeat, walked back inside and picked up one of the new baby chicks. I named them, although I can’t tell you who is who, I thought it would help them feel more like pets than dinner.

Here we are six months later and I love my chickens. They are not dirty or ugly. However, they are big and just a little stinky. We will never regain in eggs what we have spent and that is okay. (We are not selling eggs we are eating them and giving them away.)They live in a mansion, they get to flutter around our backyard and eat however much they want whenever they want and they are happy. I have learned the difference in their chirps. I know when they want out of the coop, when they want food and when they are excited to see me.  We have started getting eggs every day and I get excited every time I find one or six.  When friends come over they laugh at the lawn chairs we have staggered around outside of the coop. I admit I sit for long periods of time and watch my chickens.  They love tomatoes and get super excited when they see me coming with those juicy red treats in hand. They are worry free and happy.  I love to watch them scratch the ground and find bugs to eat. They look so proud prancing around the yard kicking back their hocks and bobbing their heads. I call all the roosters Fred. There is one Fred in particular that loves to have his tail feathers scratched. He likes Tom the best but he will let me scratch him too. He comes up beside us, gets real low to the ground, arches his back and waits for his daily dose of love.  Our chickens entertain us but they have also been very educational for our family. Our three children play a big part in taking care of them and they think it is so cool to be able to tell their friends that we have 12 chickens.  

I feel like I am in one of those Master Card commercials; chickens $, chicken coop $$$$, experience…priceless.  Looking back I am glad that we “talked about it” because our chickens have brought so many laughs and eggs to the table and fresh eggs really do taste better than store bought eggs. I’m just saying. I would also like to let you know that we will never eat these chickens. Once they have stopped laying eggs, they will continue to be our pets. 

I didn’t think I had it in me to take care of more living things; my husband would argue I don’t, he does all the work, but after all “we talked about it”. (wink) I let them out in the mornings and check for eggs. Tom cleans the coop, feeds them, fills there water trough and moves the coop (it is on wheels) around the backyard and puts them away at night. Sounds fair to me. (wink) The kids do help a lot with all of the chicken chores and as a family we love having them.  Tom and I are already talking about more farm animals to add to our family zoo. But we are just talking. If given the choice to do over again and Tom and I were to have one of the final decision making conversations I would absolutely undoubtedly say yes let’s get some baby chicks!

My favorite scripture has gotten me through another unexpected life event once again. Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ whom strengthens me”.