Tag Archives: backyard-chickens

Emotional Lessons on Faith from Chicken Keeping

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Another beautiful Tuesday here in sunny Ontario, Canada, and another thought for you from my little piece of the Internet. We’ve just celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving, and all the fall activities and sights and sounds are upon us. They say the colours are a bit muted this year, so I don’t know how to feel about that. I’m not so sure. Around here, the golden fields are rich in the sunlight, and I am reminded to be thankful. There’s lots of fall thanksgiving, gratitude, and blessings posts here at mittonmusings.com, so if you’re looking for one of those, do a simple search and I am sure it’ll pop up for you. This week, however, was not one of those gratitude musings… well at least not in the beginning. I had a bit of an emotional roller coaster of a night the other night, so I’ll share:

As you all know, the chickens here are the main attraction. They are the reason I dragged my family to the sticks to make a living. You’ll also know that we’ve lost a few to predators. I think the risk is worth it, so I continue to free range my girlies. It’s fun to watch them chase the bugs (and frogs and mice…). It brings me joy. However, the last time we were away we lost three to (what we suspect is) a coyote. Three is pretty devastating when you have a small flock, so a few weeks back we went about replacing those hens. Now, I am new to this chicken tending thing and have only ever raised day old chicks. Only this close to winter, chicks are harder to find and keep. The big companies don’t sell them and they will go outside too close to colder temperatures, so “teenager” chickens were the ticket. “Pullets” in the chicken keeping world. So, several weeks ago we brought home three new girls (hopefully girls!).

Travelling home with three new teenagers who are all wet because they dumped their water!

Then came the process of quarantining, integrating with the existing flock (the pecking order is a real thing!) and getting them to trust me and bond and all that good stuff. The bonding is a little harder with pullets because they are already fully feathered and didn’t spend any time with me in the house. They were able to go straight outside. Which means they don’t know my voice yet. They haven’t fully learned all the routines yet. They don’t trust me yet. Which is where my story begins.

A few nights ago I went out to put everyone to bed. The older girls were safely tucked up on the roosts already. The nights are getting darker earlier and I missed “dusk”. It was already dark… and the new girls were no where to be found. The hubby and I checked every bush and brush. I called and climbed. The new girls have been wandering a bit farther and farther from their coop as they gain confidence … but they did not recognize my voice.

I second guessed my whereabouts. I was home all night. Did I hear anything? I didn’t see anything. Did the dog bark unusually during the evening? I should have gone out before dark. I should have spent more time with them before letting them free range. I don’t deserve pets. I’m not worthy of animals, I’m no farmer. I dragged the whole family here for nothing… And the emotional spiral down begins. Then the tears. The hubby says “They are just stupid chickens” — not worth crying over. Yet, us girls go there in the middle of the night when we are upset. They don’t know me yet, and it was my fault!

My emotional breakdown was real, but unnecessary, and totally unwarranted, not only because it isn’t totally true, but because the next morning when I went out, three fluffy, buff coloured heads poked out from behind the bushes and looked at me. We had looked there. Twice. Even that morning they didn’t come running to greet me. I only noticed them after I heard the bushes rustle. Then, of course, I called and offered treats and goo goo voiced at them as prayers of thankfulness flowed and the begging of forgiveness for taking my lack of pullet training for granted. I’m such a basket case some days.

Safe and sound and learning to come when called!

In John 10, there is a strikingly similar story that Jesus tells about sheep. It was such a vivid parallel to me! It tells us that the sheep only recognize the voice of the good shepherd. They don’t recognize the voice of the thief that comes in the night. The one who comes from the back door only to prey on them with doubt. Only the voice that they trust (and recognize) to keep them safe will lead them to the rich green pastures. Or in my case, the warm and shielded chicken coop. Needless to say, I am working on my pullet bonding these days.

Are you there, my friend? Do you recognize the voice of the good shepherd? It takes time. It takes work. It requires trust to be built. You must learn the routines. Go back and read the story. It’s a good one. I’ll be back again next week with more thoughts on this faith journey and how God is showing me through crazy chicken keeping how our faith gets lived out on the daily. We’ll catch up soon.

Navigating Relationships Through Chicken Keeping

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What a whirlwind of a week it has been! Welcome back. There’s been a lot going on at Itsnotta farm … fall is approaching and the weather is finally getting a little cooler! We had some rain as well… a much needed thing after a very dry season which included a complete fire ban in the surrounding area, as well as a few friends who lost water in shallow wells. We’ve been clearing brush, cutting down tree branches and my arbor is up and still standing! I’ve been researching baby goats, but that’s still not on the horizon… need some fence building done, apparently. The pond experts came in today and got my waterfall going again… but the rain made the pool green, so there’s that.

However, the most significant change has been with the beloved chickens. Tragedy has struck again and I am saddened to report that two more of my new babies have been taken by a predator without a trace. I am so upset. I’ve gone from 5 new babies to 2 left. I have four of my original flock left, so that leaves me with only six girls. I understand that allowing the hens to free range means I have to accept this fate, on occasion. Yet, it’s still sad.

Hanging out with the chickens is where I wanna be this week. As you all know, they’ve been the driving force behind our move, our new adventures and Itsnotta farm. And my observations have created my muse for this week. So, the two sets of hens are now a year apart. The new breed is absolutely beautiful, but a little shyer than my original girls. And pecking order is definitely a real thing.

Finally: “apart but together”

Let me paint the picture for you. Four, older, more established girls, spoiled rotten by their crazy chicken momma, get infiltrated by five teenagers. The less experienced teens are attacked, traumatized and are reduced to two. The remaining two need to rely on each other to slowly make friends with the older ladies. And slowly, oh so slowly, it’s happening. They are forced to be locked up together at night, but the older girls are “making room”. There is still a cue for treats in the morning, but the younger two are starting to quickly get close enough for fast leftovers. Instead of being fields apart, the flock is “apart” — but together. I really am hoping this trend continues and that one day I will have a cohesive flock. Chicken keepers call this “integration”. And it seems to take forever. A group is obviously safer, so that’s the goal!

So, my friends, what do we learn from this? Why do I bore you with all my chicken drama? Well, it had me thinking about how similar we are, as humans. We were created to be a flock. God designed us to be together. Together for safety. Together to learn. Together to rest. Together to work as a team. Yes, there will be leaders and followers, but once the integration dust settles, there should be an ebb and flow to the scratch, peck and eat bugs, then occasionally lay an egg, routine.

The hubby and I have been in the middle of relationship observation overload these past few weeks. We’ve watched our older kids go off independently and merge with others (and allthe teenage angst that goes with it!) We’ve gotten together with new friends, and worked on building fresh relationships, and spent time with old friends who we value and love because we already “get each other”. We’ve seen new life come and the learning curve it creates to “add to the flock” (Hurray for babies!). We’ve also watched as relationships crumble and long term marriages seem to falter. We’ve had the hard discussions with older folk who are seeing the end of their time on earth come far to fast. From the outside looking in, it’s just like watching my little flock, and it’s crazy.

Our Sunday services have recently reminded me that God designed us to be in relationships. He did not want us to be alone to be attacked by predators. He designed us to have safety in numbers. You must learn from one another. We all must do some watching, some waiting, some learning through observation and patience, and then we can fly in and clean up the leftover treats that God gives us on the daily because He loves us.

As usual, perhaps these posts are not eloquent, nor full of deep theology or revelation, but a simple reminder of the way God intends us to be. I’m reminded all the time through simple things like baby chickens, of God things, and I am simply sharing them with you. Thanks for following along on my journey. We’ll catch up over a cuppa coffee again next week! Be blessed.

Pecking Order

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Oh my beloveds! As I chat with you, my chickens are wandering around my living room. If you’ve been following mittonmusings for any length of time, you’ll know: it’s a dream finally fulfilled! The hubby and kids already think I am turning into the crazy chicken lady… alas, I fear it is true! I ordered wallpaper and toys for the coop. My instagram is loaded with tips and tricks. I have been monitoring growth charts and stages of development. They have grown into full-feathered ladies now and really need to move outside to the coop… only it’s not quite ready yet! Almost, but not quite! So, as any good mom, as any good new chicken mom, I indulge in their baby needs a little longer. I’m allowed – it’s my dream – don’t judge!

The Ladies … each with their own personality!

Seriously though, the chickens have been so fun to watch. They definitely have distinct personalities: Mort is my weakest link, and Mavis is the boss lady. The rest fall into line in perfect chicken “pecking order”. I can see where the term comes from. In six short weeks, my little flock has fallen into their own rituals and routines as they follow each other around — exploring — but at their own pace and personality. I hope to be at the top of the food chain (after all, I have the treats!) but we’ll see how it all pans out once they are out on their own! I may be chasing crazy hens all over the yard soon.

I suppose my little flock is like any other herd or family. Kids, chickens, mother-in-laws, we’re all the same. Cows, offices and schools – same deal. Principals, roosters and work wife… we all play our roles and fall into place as we grow together. That’s just life, isn’t it? Sibling rivalry is part of growing up, right? I’m guessing it is. And the muse this week? What about the followers of Jesus? Did the twelve have their own pecking order? How did all the early Christians get along?

I’m guessing that thousands of years haven’t even put a dent in human nature. Jesus’s disciples had their own pecking order as well. Peter, the Rock. John, the beloved. Biological brothers and lifelong friends. Women. Certainly there was a motley crew of followers, each touched by a savior, but with their own unique personalities and backgrounds. Not unlike our churches of today, eh?

How did this motley crew ever get along? Photo Credit: The Chosen

Yet, our human nature was tested by a new set of rules. Jesus’ agenda didn’t fit the rules of pecking orders. He demonstrated this so clearly when the boys questioned who would be at His right and left hand in Heaven. They didn’t get it. It’s not about who is right or left… it’s who will be willing to serve. The last shall be first. The pecking order is reversed. The weakest hen must be the leader.

Of course, nature is so designed that survival of the fittest keeps everyone safe. My chickens must rely on alarm calls from a leader. And I suppose, leaders must do their God given gift of leadership, too, but our attitude about it must be kept in check. We must learn to be humble and tactful. We must learn to lead in love… for the protection of the flock, not for our own selfish gains. Sometimes, it’s only through God and lots of prayer that we can be part of a “coop” where we don’t gel with those around us. We learn to love the unlovable.

So, as much as I am enjoying watching “my ladies” grow and mature, and laugh at their silly antics, I must look beyond the pecking order and appreciate each one for their own personalities. Not only in the coop, but in my own circle of influence as well. Join me as we grow together here on #itsnottafarm! Crazy chicken lady, here, at your service!