Get the F%@# OUT!- A Tale of Avian Eviction
There is time in every young life that they must simply be tossed out into the world to fend for themselves. Its a rite of passage that every young being must go through. The rough roads must battle harden the young before they can truly be ready to give back. Well, for six really smelly chickens, that day came on Memorial Day 2017.
In defense of the great chicken eviction, these things have lived a very complete childhood. They've had two homes, one a starter sauna--kept at a highly regulated 95 degrees, and one a palatial pen that allowed them to stretch their wings. On top of that, they had their own Air B&B week away at their cousins swanky condo. While there, they enjoyed a garden view, and made a ton of neighborhood friends. Most importantly, their human cousin has truly become a huge fan of her feathered friends. She is struggling with the concept of not picking them up by the tail feathers. I guess she'll learn eventually, possibly the hard way.
Now we find out what these birds made of. I have given them a coop that is build like a tank (trust me, I tried to move it, its heavy), I will continue to provide them with food and drink, but now they can freely roam the yard looking for worms, spiders, and most importantly ticks. The challenge for me, and for them will be to avoid the hawks, foxes, raccoons, and coyotes (all harmless creatures for sure). These chickens are meant to provide me with food, not theirs.
So what's next?!? Well, they will spend time getting used to their new home. But then its egg time. We expect, based on their breed that they will be popping those things out by August 15th, which is about the time I hope to flood their new home with another round of friends. The next round are not as lucky as these. The next round will be what they call in the industry "broilers." For those playing at home that means they are going to be served up "a la King" style.
I leave you with this-- I have spent a lot of time listening to my friends with kids talk about how sad it is to see their children grow and go out on their own. Given my first experience as a foster parent of these furballs, which was truly great while it lasted, you all need to get it together. Kicking the youngsters the hell out is quite satisfying. I mean, mine were 6 weeks old when they got the boot, what's taking you and your progeny so damn long?