When I saw chickens on Sunday at the farmers market, it of course renewed my interest in raising a few. For the eggs. The idea of raising chickens who will happily produce protein for my dinner table is very appealing. No need for store-bought meat and chicken and fish that has been god-knows-where and is full of god-knows-what. There are obstacles to overcome: local rules and regulations, keeping a vigilant watch over the hens while they're out of their house so the hawks, foxes, and raccoons don't get them, convincing my husband that this isn't a crazy idea.
I talked to a beekeeper and hen-raiser on Sunday. He told me one thing that has stayed with me. He said, kindly and not condescendingly, "just don't turn your chickens into pets." Even though I really do want to raise chickens for the eggs (and for a little meat when the chickens, you know, pass on) I fully acknowledge that I would turn chickens into pets in short order.
I think I'll start with bees and graduate to chickens if the bees work out. I don't think I'll have an emotional attachment to bees. Although now that I think of it I do have an emotional attachment to my worms. I'll keep on thinking about this.
3 comments:
Lord, I would get my heart SO broken over chickens. Don't know how my friend Robin can handle all the violence and death she's watched be visited upon hers. She sits and cuddles them, ya know. Bonding happens.
I know, I know. I thought that beekeeper man at the TP market was so wise to recognize that bonding is a HUGE pitfall for many people who adopt a small brood(?) of chickens. It was Robin's experience w/ hawks that tells me I'd have the same problem. I almost typed "I'd have to watch over the chickens like a hawk to keep them save from the ...." Ha!
I adored my pet Henny Penny when I was little, and had her eggs for breakfast too. But we didn't have foxes/hawks etc.
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