Chickens - an update

White-crested, black Polish bantams.

The three chickens - two hens and a rooster - have settled into their yard and coop. They have become a family of sorts. Rooster first preferred chicken number one to chicken number two, and has since switched his preference. This seems not to change the peck order of the hens, since chicken number one will still give chicken number two a good peck on the head if needed. It just makes chicken number one a bit more independent, which I can appreciate. Chicken number two is much more compliant.

They are a family, actually. They are all siblings, but that seems to not matter to their sexual behavior. In fact I've read that it is preferable to breed a hen with her own sire. Chickens are inbred, and a little dumb from it, but with T Rex's closest living relative, we do what we can.

The eggs come, two to a day, most days. It is pretty much maintenance level for the two humans in the house. The eggs are very good quality, nice and rich yolks and  strong shells.

Through observation I have decided to alter the fencing of their yard to provide them an amount and variety of space in which they seem to keep entertained.

At one end I've started a compost pile of sorts. I chop down various overgrown things,  former plants the gophers have eaten from the bottom, and figure the chickens will either eat some of it or bugs will come and live in the pile, which the chickens will eat.

I sometimes find myself a little surprised that three chickens live in my back yard, and I even want more. Maybe 3 or four more females. I'd like to share the eggs, also keep the rooster a bit more busy.

I look forward to adding the straw/sawdust/chicken poop mix of the coop bedding to the compost pile. I believe richness of soil life will ensue. The garden will thrive on such a richness.

Still they have no other names than those assigned regarding their gender or peck order. Rooster, Chicken number one, Chicken number two.

I've worked hard to be able to pick up the females any old time I want. They come to me when I go out to their yard. The rooster is less interested, much more macho, so he rarely gets handled, unless he's being too cocky. Then I'll catch him and hold onto him, telling him he's such a nice, soft bird, before returning him to terra firma. He does not care for it, but he's kind of a chauvinist, and I'm kind of not. It could all be for naught, but I do have sympathy for the hens when he gets a little uppity.

He's not a mean rooster though. So... I'm not thinking of learning to harvest anything other than eggs just yet.

I recently read a piece in the LA Times regarding urban chickens and the writer uses the term "owning" chickens. I don't really feel like I own my chickens. I feel like a family of birds, for which I am ultimately responsible, lives in my back yard. Somehow the term ownership doesn't feel right, though I do refer to them as "my chickens."