Oh, these chickens. We are on the third henhouse incarnation in less than two years. It’s safe to say that we didn’t know what we were doing when we acquired our flocklett. But necessity is the mother of invention, isn’t it?
Coop 3.0 is a fully-insulated, weather-tight, single-family residence, with attached green-roofed run, three state-of-the-art nesting boxes, and one exceptionally inaccurate weathervane. It is wired for surround sound and high-speed internet. Just kidding (but I was tempted). But it does come with a pool.
And it also comes with priceless original artwork (portraits of the girls painted by my dear friend’s kids), plenty of storage, and a handy grit-dispenser.
The surrounding chicken garden, fenced off from the main yard, gives the girls their own private oasis (read: keeps them from destroying the rest of my garden), and offers plenty of protection from aerial predators in the form of a minor jungle of overgrowth.
The garden path is made from recycled bits of wood salvaged from coops 1.0 and 2.0, as well as our old, dismantled deck. Cut into small bricks and set in cement, they make a charming little yellow brick road leading to the the girls’ own little Oz.
The garden gate is actually the original front door, which, much to my dismay could not stay as the front door of the house. But, like the stubborn mule that I am, I refused to scrap it!
Free-range time is closely managed by the flock supervisor.
On hot days there are ice baths to dunk our pretty chicken toes into.
And on extra rainy days, sometimes we get to come inside and dry our feathers by the space heater. Supervised, of course.
And we get plenty of visits from our favorite cousin (sporting his ‘chick-magnet’ tshirt).
Yep. These chickens have it pretty good.
And so do we.