A couple, three weeks ago I obsessed on a prop for a test shoot and before I knew it I had driven a hour and a half to buy chickens. I thought I'd return them , but I didn't want to do that drive again. I now have a use for the dog house my beloved, Murphy, wanted nothing to do with. Three times I've moved that doghouse trying to make good use of a bad idea. The chickens seem to be liking it just fine. And here is where it will stay.
I have always wanted chickens. As a kid I had several chickens - pink ones, green ones, purple ones. They just never made it past the stage where all the dye had grown out of their feathers. Stories of doomed Easter animal are plentiful in my family. One year we had a drowning in the toilet. The chick was getting big enough to fly out of his box. And I naively kept him in the bathroom. I found him face down in green water. One I literally loved to death. I carried the chicken everywhere I went and finally rolled over on him while napping. He lasted a day. The only one that got nearly out of his Easter dye and into his big chicken feathers was gobbled up by my dog, Attila, in one stealth slurp.
The chickens I have now are about 3 months old. I have a red rooster, a black and white speckled rooster and a black hen with a necklace of brown tipped feathers. I am keeping them in my defunct garden plot. I brought them home to acclimate in my defunct greenhouse. Next year those two things will be as they should be and my hen should be laying her eggs.
I have been getting my education on raising them from a host of internet sources. I was amazed that there is even blogs on Urban Chickens. One is here at Urban Chicken Underground .