Cooped Up

After a long rainy gloomy week, it’s finally starting to feel like spring around here again.

But with the rain and consistently above-freezing temperatures, little green things have started to shoot up all over the yard. This is wonderful except for the fact that our chickens, who have been free-ranging it most of the winter like to eat tender green shoots.

So. . . sorry chickens, but you’re gonna get fenced in.

Since we’ve apparently established that there are minimal natural predators of the urban chicken in our neighborhood (aka. none have them have been eaten yet), we’re just fending off a corner of our yard instead of re-doing the all-enclosed type chicken run I built originally. This way the chickens will have more room to move about, and will hopefully be content.

So this afternoon as Owen and I were watching Jeremy work on the back side of the coop, we could hear Jonas at the front side, squawking into Tomato who was trying, amid all the chaos, do her chicken duty up in the roosting box.

After a few minutes, I decided to check up on him.

Ok, so he was apparently being more bothersome to Tomato than I had originally thought.

“See mom there is this little bar that’s the perfect height for me to sit on and be right next to my chicken.”


Yes, he thought he was so clever.

And you’ll have to excuse the blurriness of this picture. See, there’s only so long that I can stay in a squat before this belly throws me off balance and I topple over backward.

And if you came here for your daily dose of humorous Owen antics. . . Look back at the first picture and notice the 4-inch nail sticking out of the front of the coop. That was Owen equipping the coop with “guns” (aka. anything long and skinny that sticks out from something bigger).

You never know these days, even the most humble chicken coop should be fully defensible.