Page 141 - The Hunt - Spring 2022

10-foot-by-8-foot wire run with a dirt
floor and tarped roof. Inside, a brood of pretty lavender Orpingtons, speckled Cuckoo Marans, brown Buckeyes and black Australorps jerk and bob around. One shakes loose dirt all over its body in a bathing ritual. Another has thinning feathers, making it easy to see who’s at the bottom of the pecking order. “We don’t do free-range because of our dogs and the foxes, racoons and hawks,” says Talley. “They wouldn’t last very long. They also destroy my flower beds, and that doesn’t fly with me.”
The run space provides ample sunlight and shade. Its wood siding sinks 18 inches into the earth to keep chickens in and predators out. Beds of trumpeted Asiatic lilies and purple mum wood flowers, just out of reach, taunt the more mischievous of the bunch. Chicks cost about $4 each (give or take) and typically begin laying eggs at about 16 weeks. Talley’s brood continues to lay eggs for 30 months. In the beginning, they’ll provide anywhere from seven to nine a day between the 11 chickens (260-270 a year per chicken).
Chickens reach “hen” age after a year. By their third year, egg production decreases significantly. That’s when Talley finds her girls a new home and introduces new spring chicks. “They’ll
lay eggs year-round if you give them enough sunlight—about 12 to 14 hours a day,” she says.
In the fall and winter months, Talley introduces a low-wattage incandescent bulb to the coop and sets it on a timer. She adjusts it to those 12 hours as the daylight grows shorter. Maintenance is fairly low-key. It
costs just shy of $40 a month to feed Talley’s flock. They enjoy a mix of Purina grains and vegetable and fruit scraps. “They also like stale crackers and cooked spaghetti noodles—no sauce,” says Talley.
The coop requires cleaning only once a month—maybe twice. Dawn chases the brood into the run and locks them out of their house while she scrapes out old wood chips and fills it with a fresh layer. As she demonstrates with her hands how she does this, a cackling sound comes from inside. When she lifts the lid, a proud hen lets us know she’s just laid an egg.
It’s time for breakfast.
The Hetherstons paid about $6 per chicken and as high as $12
for more exotic breeds. “They used to be $3, but now chicken farming has gotten huge,” Caryn Hetherston says. “I think people were worried about food security during
the pandemic.”
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