by Chris Quaal Vinson
There’s a fowl odor around here
Benjamin Franklin once said that guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days. Old Ben must not have been a farmer or he would have certainly added chickens to his list of smelly things. Mama chicken gave up sitting on her nest of eggs, so the only way to get new baby chicks around here is to purchase them. Every spring I have to become a surrogate mother of sorts, and the cute fluffy-bottomed little things were given a temporary home in a cage in my laundry room. Baby chickens are sweet and helpless and will drown themselves in their own drinking water if you don’t watch them carefully. They constantly fight over their food and spill it all over the bottom of the cage, then poop in it. I clean the cage twice a day, giving fresh food and water as well as change the paper at the bottom. They squawk loudly and scurry away from the hand that feeds them, scattering water and feed everywhere. Miraculously, the chicks survived despite themselves.The content you are trying to access is only available to members. Sorry.