It’s been over two years since we lost our small flock of chickens. Occasionally people ask what happened or why we haven’t started over. In true Carrie fashion, it’s taken me a while to process it all.
Now feels like the right time to share more about our experience raising backyard chickens for eggs, including the joys, the failures, and our future plans. I hope it helps you in some way, whether you’re considering a flock of egg-layers or simply stepping into something new.
From wannabe to chicken owner
It took years for me to work up the nerve to actually bring chicks home. I read books, joined Facebook groups, watched countless videos, visited people’s coops, and even attended a poultry show — feeling like a complete imposter. (Thanks, Dad, for coming with me!)
Finally, on a Saturday morning in April 2019, Brett left to go fishing and I drove to a local swap meet in pursuit of chicks. Our basement was prepared with a stock tank filled with pine shaving bedding, chick food, electrolyte-enhanced water, a warming shelf, and a chicken wire cover.
All was going as planned until, in my nervous frenzy, I locked the keys in my car after parking at the fairgrounds. Poor Brett and his brother had to delay their launch on the water to bring me a spare key. How I hoped it wasn’t a sign of caution!
They grow up so fast
I wish I could say I felt like a natural placing our five fluff balls into their brooder, but everything was foreign. How do I hold this tiny thing gently yet firmly? Is that chirping a sign of distress? Did someone’s foot just fall off?! Thank goodness it was just poop.
After arriving home one day to a chick stuck inside the center of the feeder, we bought a Wyze Cam (a.k.a. The Cluck Cam) so I could keep an eye on them while at work.
As the days went on, I started to worry less and appreciate more of the transformation happening in front of us. The chicks’ fuzz gave way to feathers. The brooder seemed less spacious as their bodies grew. One sunny spring day they got to go outside and experience the magic of grass and bugs for the first time.
The steady changes were a reminder to finish preparing their permanent home. We converted an old sturgeon spearing ice fishing shack into a chicken coop that sat elevated on cinder blocks next to the garden. Brett’s dad dug a trench with his tractor so the run could have hardware cloth fencing a foot below the ground to prevent predators from digging in.
On Labor Day weekend, the five adolescents officially graduated from the basement to the [nearly] finished coop and run.
Ups and downs
Suddenly, my long sought after vision of a garden bordered by clucking chickens became reality. How I loved being out there working in the soil, listening to them scratch and scurry around and attack plant bits thrown into the run.
One morning, not long after their move outside, I was harvesting greens in the garden before work and heard a distinct screeching come from the coop. I froze. Please let that be a normal noise for a hen, I thought, deep down knowing it was the sound of a young rooster.
As luck would have it, three of our five chicks grew into magnificent roosters. Beautiful, but an unsustainable ratio in any flock. That summer was our first experiment renting out our house, and we had to scramble to remove the roosters before the first guests arrived. Unable to find new homes, we drove to a local Amish farm that processed them for our freezer.
The months that followed brought more ups and downs:
👐 Two new flock-mates from people who offered to give us their hens.
🥰 Our first egg! Soon after, a steady supply of vibrant farm fresh eggs.
😥 A missing Easter Egger, who I mourned the loss of — and then she miraculously reappeared the next day in the landscaping.
😳 Baths to clean dried droppings blocking their bottoms.
😔 Down to three hens after one of the newbies was not accepted into the flock…
Self-sufficient systems
Eventually, we got into a comfortable rhythm with the three muskateers, who, against my better judgment, received names: Dory, Lulu, and Daisy Duke.
Tending to the tribe became part of my morning and evening routine, and little by little we created systems that allowed for us to leave for a few days without the need for a chicken sitter: a five-gallon water bucket with poultry nipple drinker attachments, a large hanging feeder that could last nearly a week, and a small door that stayed open so they could be outside during the day and tuck themselves in at night.
Winter brought new challenges, but we figured out ways to make them as self-sufficient as possible to still allow for travel and relative peace of mind.
Sometimes we’d ask family members to check in, but overall we felt good about the level of care that was required.
Pushing our luck
Spring of 2020 brought COVID-19, the start of me working from home, and new adventures for our trio. I started to let them free range during the day while keeping an eye outside through the dining room window.
They were such a hoot to watch scratching around the yard and scurrying to new places to explore. Lulu developed a routine of climbing the deck stairs and more than once she laid an egg in the garage just outside the door to the house.
All three had a special fondness for the wooded area in the front of our house, which was difficult to monitor from the windows. The only way I could lure them out was with a shovel, for the shovel marks meant one thing: worms! Out they’d run to follow me wherever I dug (and typically back into the woods once I went back inside).
I knew it was a gamble to let them roam freely. There were hawks, foxes, owls, and other lurking predators that could’ve swiped them up in an instant. It just seemed worth the risk given how happy they were to do what they were meant to do.
Saying goodbye
Even before the true end, there were signs of distress. Daisy Duke developed a terrible case of mites. Dory started laying soft-shelled eggs. A fox was regularly spotted outside the coop.
We were in the midst of moving to our new land, demolishing a mobile home, and preparing to build our house — not to mention working and managing our short-term rental. We cared for the chickens as best we could, but deep down I knew they weren’t getting the care they deserved.
I’ll never forget the evening I walked out to the coop and sensed something was off. There was an eerie quiet and stillness instead of the typical faint rustling and cooing as they settled into their roost.
The devastating scene showed a predator finally broke its way into the run and coop. My poor, poor chickens. Brett was out of town, so I buried them next to the garden the following morning before work, thankful to have our sweet dog by my side.
There were tears. Guilt. Shame. I felt it all. My mind knew these things happen all the time, and life on the farm ain’t easy, but my heart needed time to mourn the loss.
Future plans
And so ended our first foray into chicken keeping. A journey of gained knowledge, first experiences, endless entertainment, many moments of joy, heart wrenching perils, and unexpected connections with fellow chicken owners.
Will we start a new flock? Over two years later, our plate still feels too full. Brett’s job involves sporadic travel and we enjoy the freedom of being able to get up and go for longer than a few days.
Just like I’ve been trying to find ways to enjoy the best of both gardening and travel, my thoughts have been on how to experience the benefits of raising poultry without committing to our own flock of egg-layers — at least at our current stage of life. Here are some of those ideas:
- Chickensit or help friends and neighbors — like sorting meat chicks this past spring
- Find volunteer or trade opportunities at farmstays through WWOOF or Workaway
- Volunteer with a local 4H club
- Commit to a season of raising our own meat chickens
Homesteaders often call chickens the gateway animal — meaning a small flock of hens can easily escalate into ducks, geese, goats, pigs, and a milk cow. We’ve defied “chicken math” thus far and I think it’s important to show there is more than one way to experience the benefits of farm animals.
Your turn
This is more than a story about raising backyard chickens for eggs. It’s about gaining confidence in a new area, stepping into the unknown whether or not you feel “ready,” and learning and moving forward from setbacks and failures.
How have these lessons shown up in your own life? I’d love to hear your story in the comments below.
oh my aching heart. That one was a tear jerker…
Not my intention! But it was therapeutic to put into words and to remember that life is always full of ups and downs. “This, too, shall pass,” as Grandpa would say…