My first experience with the chickens a year 1/2 ago |
Andrew's sister lives out near Fort Adams in Newport and has chickens. Not exactly legal chickens, but a coop with chickens. This batch started out at 10, we now have 7 - 3 white, 3 red and Falcon, the Chilean chicken who lays blue eggs. Cath and her family live in NYC during the school year, so Andrew and I take care of the chickens while they're away. The reward: the most delicious eggs you've ever tasted. 8-10 every other day. Straight from the chicken's butt.
Apparently chickens need showers too |
This is where the art of chicken herding comes in...
1. Leave the door of the run open.
2. Andrew must be the "face" out in front, throwing some stale cracker or popcorn from the house. They are soothed by his voice and come running to see him. Go figure.
3. I must come from behind and never say a word, otherwise they run like hell.
4. Then start the herd, moving them closer and closer to Andrew, thus closer to the coop.
5. Eventually they will all run like idiots right into the run if the cracker is thrown just at the right angle and you have them cornered.
....if only it were that easy every time.
It varies by day, but sometimes we are missing a few: they are hiding under the porch, in the neighbor's yard, or just conveniently in the house (ie. the shower - chickens need a bath, right?!) My favorite is when one chicken is left. ONE. Really?!? What makes you so entitled Mr. Chicken that you think you don't have to go into the coop when everyone else does?! It's true with humans too - there is always one.
But, if you get her cornered, threaten to kick 'em and chase her yelling...she squats and you grab her...GAME OVER! Another success in the art of chicken herding.
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