In typical fashion, I got my knickers in a twist a few days back, worrying about how our three hens would fare when Hurricane Sandy finally struck on the night of Oct. 29. Would their small coop be buffeted by powerful gusts or, heaven forbid, knocked over? Would wind-driven rains pour into the coop through the two windows I leave open on warm nights? Should I close one of the windows, even though overnight ventilation is said to be important for chickens?
After all, my wife Liz and I, not to mention our cats and dogs, would be toasty and dry in the house, no matter how nasty it got outside. The chickens, on the other hand, would be holed up overnight in a freestanding coop far from the house at the back end of our lot, leaving them isolated and vulnerable to the elements.
As it happens, Sandy turned out to be a bit of a bust by the time she worked her way up here to central Maine: light winds, few gusts and relatively little rain. So the girls (and their coop) emerged just fine, although they did appear to be a bit grumpy the morning after the storm.
I toyed with the idea of rewarding the hens by getting chicken-sized T-shirts emblazoned with something like: “I clucked my way through the frankenstorm of 2012." But I think I’d have a hard time getting their wings into the sleeves.
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