Freedom. A superb idea. Until it isn't. Because sometimes, you have to teach those who long for freedom how to use it wisely when it is theirs. You can't just open the gates and say -- you're free, you're free and give a nudge and expect all things to fall into place.
You know of course that I'm talking about chickens. And you may rightly suspect that the above is a thought that came to me not this morning, when I was opening the gates of their confinement, but rather this afternoon, when I was chasing chickens out of our one neighbor's yard.
You'll have read perhaps that yesterday we added four young hens to our flock (of the American Bresse variety, because if she isn't living in the Savoie region of France, she's not a full fledged Bresse girl, no matter what her genetic material may be). You remember maybe that one escaped in the transfer to the coop and we had to chase her up and down and all around, until darkness fell and she collapsed with exhaustion as we cornered her in the barn.
This morning (and it is a lovely morning and an even lovelier afternoon!), I went out to open up the coop. Our strategy always had been to let the newbies out with the older girls. Eventually they form a pack and in all instances, they see the coop and the barn as their home depot. The new ones never stray far from that base. Initially anyway.
That was the way it worked in the past. These four new girls are an entirely novel proposition.
I'm trying to think like a chicken here and I suppose belatedly, I'm not surprised that their initial instinct is to flee. Suddenly, these teenage chicks are without boundaries in a strange place with strange animals (cats) and people (us) threatening them (in their chicken heads, we are a threat). Of course they're going to get away as fast as they can.
My hope is that they wont move far from the barn. That they eventually will join the two older ones. But today, all bets are off. The two old ones go as they usually do to the garage (who knows why -- it's their routine). The four younger ones? Once outside, they convene...
And then they part ways. Two of them go to the eastern edge and hide under the huge pine for the better part of the day. Well, at least they're not wandering away! (Do you see them?)
The two remaining ones, however, flee to the west. I chase them back (if you do a wide sweep, you can chase them, sort of).
I go in, we eat breakfast...
I look outside -- the two wanderers are missing again. Into the neighbors yard they went. I chase them out once more.
And I think -- there's got to be a better way!
I know the literature will tell you to keep them under lock in the coop for a few days until they get used to the idea that this is now home. But we've never had to do that before! And this is such a lovely day! A crime to keep them confined!
Ed is unconcerned. He has a very que sera sera attitude about the whole thing. Eventually, according to him, it will all straighten itself out. Well yeah, if we can avoid the predators, and if we can get them into the coop at night, and if we keep them off the road, and away from the neighbor's yard!
Who knew chicken care would be so stressful!
(I'm not stressed -- says Ed.)
In the afternoon, we leave all this behind and go for a bike ride. It is the most gorgeous March day ever! Brutally windy, but we persevere! I mean, at 68f (20c) and sunny -- nothing seems impossible! Just splendid!
(Indeed, I, too, have my first Snowdrop out in the yard!)
(Yes, shorts and short sleeves. On Ed, not on me yet!)
(choppy waters on Lake Waubesa)
And then I lose myself in the prep of dinner. With an occasional run outside to check on/chase after chickens.
Evening sets in. The young family arrives.
(I fix dinner in the kitchen, he fixes one in the playroom.)
Time to eat. And, time to move the chickens into the coop.
Ha!
Let me just give the upshot: I got dinner on the table on time...
The chickens? They all scattered. All over farmette lands.
We took our flashlights and searched. And we did find them all: under trees, inside trees, in the garage, in the barn. It took two whole hours and much squawking followed, but we found them and locked them up.
One thing's for sure: no one is leaving the coop tomorrow! It'll be tight in there. We wont have happy chickens. But we're not playing that game again!
You have to earn your freedom, girls, you hear?!
with love...
