Torn, Bloody, and One Henhouse Later

I spent my birthday building a chicken coop with Nathan. It's more of an extension of our chicken coop, like we added a little plaza,where the chickens can take their lattes and discuss their lectures from philosophy class. (They're all taking an extension course.) The last extension course I took was actually an extension CORD, and I took it from the garage to the chicken area. To plug in the drill to make the extension. That's all a lie, Nathan did all the drilling and carrying of cords. I just wanted to sound cool.

Yes, spending a July birthday building things with mean and flesh tearing chicken wire made Nathan and I never want to build anything again. The combo of unrelenting sun and everytime we tried to move we snagged our skin on bent chicken wire, ripping bloody holes in our legs that were promptly looked after by volunteer biting flies.

We had to build a safe enclosed outdoor area for the chickies after I heard a bunch of squawking at 6 a.m. the other morning and ran out to scare a coyote out of the yard. I don't know if he got in because he kept hearing the new rooster crowing - started thinking maybe a rooster is not a good way to keep your hens safe - he's constantly yelling out "here we are! Hey, dinner! Come and get us!! Did you place where my voice is coming from yet? Let me keep yelling! Over here, dummy!" Coyote don't need no GPS with that idiot calling out every freaking minute. Roosters would make really good djs. They're always on the mic, and the mic is always on. (I like that our rooster has several alternative careers, a good thing in a shitty economy. He can be a dj, or he can just be an anniversary dinner.)

I did find where the coyote got in - jumped a fence where the electric wire had broken off, and just busted in on my gentle and oblivious, meandering chickens. He killed two, and wounded two - one has a chunk missing out of her butt (which she kindly allows me to spray with antiseptic) and one is limping like the Unknown Soldier, but they're alive. We blocked the coyote's entrance hole, but decided we better have a nice little safe outdoor area for chickens just in case. Or I decided, and Nathan had the tools and I forced him to work by using birthday guilt. Also, we had seen a hungry bobcat in the neighborhood, and we both thought maybe we should have less of a drive-thru feel for wild animals and our chickens.

Now that my hands have water blisters on all the fingers from cutting wire with dull wire cutters (learn how to sharpen those f*#ckers, people!), and because Nathan and I managed to not measure ANYTHING as we built, we now have a pretty decent chicken run, with a door that opens and only looks crooked if you look at it longer than 2 seconds. The door literally made us cry trying to make it, we were like two giant babies with power tools and not very good carpentry skills. But when we raped the hinges off another scrap door and stuck them on this new, warped door we handmade and it shows, and then we opened the door and shut the door, we were just internally weeping with the functionality and glory of a working chicken door. The chickens have no idea. They just stood there tilting their heads sideways and blinking tiny eyes and waiting for that leftover corncob over there. That you promised.

Torn, bloody, and one henhouse later, Nathan and I vowed to 1. never build anything unless it's November cold outside 2. never build anything for ungrateful chickens 3. really never build anything that involves using our hands.

I'll put pictures in here as soon as I can figure out why my blog rejects all my pictures. You should get a look at our prison birds. I've been actually thinking we should just net the whole area, like up on 8 foot poles, like an aviary. But I was afraid if I told Nathan my lofty chicken goals he would drill my face into the ground and leave me for dead. I may wait a few days and bring it up casually.

I have to say the best part was when I had to crawl INTO the actual cage, lay on my back, and zip tie the roof wire to close the gap and make a safe one-piece roof. Laying on the ground and looking up a blue sky and branches of pink flowers is a really nice way to work, if you don't mind feeling caged. Good to see things from the chicken's perspective. Sky is still lovely. Even though they never really look up at the beautiful sky. They'd rather just look for bugs.