Urban Chickens

I've been thinking about getting some chickens. We have room in the backyard. And it would be so cool to have our own eggs from our very own chickens. I've looked at designs for building simple chicken houses. I've read numerous articles on chicken care. But today I read something that stopped me in my tracks. It's from the Poultry chapter of The Encyclopedia of Country living by Carla Emery, in the section titled "Chicken Injuries, Diseases, Parasites."

Egg-Bound - The chicken squats, strains, maybe spends all day in the nest looking constipated. Treatment: Pour warmed olive oil into her vent. Feed her castor oil. Then gently try to maneuver the jammed egg out.

Now I don't know for sure what a vent is, but I can guess. I can also guess that the warmed olive oil doesn't flow freely into said vent. I'm thinking it will need some help. But then I suppose if you're prepared to "maneuver the jammed egg out" you're not going to think twice about maneuvering the warmed oil in. Anyway, this has got me thinking that maybe the fantasy of owning chickens is better than the reality. Still, I guess I'll never know 'til I try.

My neighbor did purchase a flock of chickens in our honor from Heifer International this year for Christmas. Maybe I should be satisfied with giving chickens to someone else. But that's just not the same.

The truth is, I want to live on a farm. Just a little one. With a goat and a cow and a couple sheep. And horses. And a ruggedly handsome stable boy (Warren has already nixed that part of the plan, though). I do like urban living. It has its perk, to be sure. But I'd like to live on a farm at some point during my life--just to try it out. Even if it's only for year.

For now I'll just have to pretend. Now that the deck is done, the vegetable garden can go in and (maybe) the chickens can come to roost. Hmmmm. Maybe we could find a ruggedly handsome veterinarian to take care of the egg-bound chickens. That could work.