Hen Chronicles: A few lessons learned, one year later

It was a year ago today that my wife and I drove to a farm in southern Maine, bought three laying hens, and set them up in a brand new coop in our backyard.

Liz and I were newcomers to the world of chicken ownership, and although I still don’t consider myself an expert by any means, I have learned some things over the course of the last 12 months. 

Here are a few of them.

Chickens have such entertaining and distinct personalities that they quickly become pets. This makes it hard to cope when disaster strikes, as we learned several months ago when Stella, our beautiful New Hampshire Red, died suddenly and unexpectedly.

On a lighter note, once you acquire a few hens, it’s easy to become obsessive about all things chicken. That flattens the wallet as assorted chicken-related books, magazines, catalogs, knickknacks, toys, artwork, etc., slowly take over your house.

Having successfully shepherded two hens through a snowy winter in which the temperature here in Maine sometimes dropped below zero, I’ve finally learned that chickens are adept at staying warm during the cold-weather months, as long as their coop remains dry and free of drafts. Oh, and they aren’t too crazy about getting snow between their toes either.

There is no comparison between the taste of a store-bought egg and an egg produced by backyard hens. If you don’t believe me, find a chicken owner and conduct your own taste test.

I know from what I’ve read that some dogs get along very well with chickens. Unfortunately, I have not been able to persuade our two dogs, Aquinnah and Martha, to read up on the finer points of canine-chicken etiquette.

I suspect that people who don’t own chickens fall into one of two categories when they first learn that their friends or acquaintances have backyard chickens. About half of them are jealous, or at least intrigued. The other half believe the whole idea is absolutely daft, but they’re usually too polite to say so.

Our chickens love the taste of their own eggs so much that it’s amazing they don’t crack them open and chow down more often. (We have no rooster, so these are unfertilized eggs. Our occasionally wayward hens are not eating their young.)

Ideally, having to dislodge a large clump of feces from a hen's butt is a task that owners should have to undertake no more than once a year. 

If I had to try to pick a chicken's all-time favorite snack, I'd be hard-pressed to choose among mealworms, earthworms, bread, sprouts, yogurt, dandelion greens, oatmeal or berries. Put another way: just about anything edible would be a candidate.

Even when the world at large is going to hell, hens still need to be fed and watered on a regular schedule, which provides much-needed perspective and the welcome, calming predictability of a routine that involves caring for other creatures. The therapeutic value of the girls’ assorted cooing and clucking sounds should not be underrated.

Snow (left) and Nala, wondering why Liz is carrying a camera rather than snacks.