I’ve written a number of blogs about the first egg of the year. Well, this one will be about the last egg of 2015–maybe the last egg period from my little farm in town. (I haven’t written about this before now because I’ve been a tad bummed out.)
I started out this spring with six hens: two Dominiques (6 years of age) and four red sex-links (aka–the Swimmy Sisters, about 4 years of age). By the end of July, I was down to one sex-link, which I rehomed and she is doing well.
All the birds seemed to die of something different: from fly strike to egg binding.
Now the coop is cleaned out and is being used for storage. The yard will be turned over and used as a vegetable garden next year. It felt weird to wipe down the walls and ceiling, and scrub the floor, and not lay down a fresh bed of pine shavings. I still find myself looking out into the back yard and checking on chickens that aren’t there.
The upside of it all is that my husband and I can visit friends or hike until dusk and not have to hurry home to close up the coop. Traveling is much simplified as well. Life is also cheaper–I had to have the vet out a number of times as various birds where dying on me. Getting old is expensive whether you are an animal or a human.
Losing that many birds in that many different ways in such a short time has taken the starch out of me. I may raise chickens again some day–and then again I may not. I’m definitely taking an extended vacation from chicken ranching! Begonia