About a month ago, my beloved animal-loving wife informed me that we were getting chickens. She explained that chickens were easy to take care of and I wouldn’t have to dedicate much, if any time to it. She also told me the deck would be off limits to the birds, and we’d keep them contained in the back yard in a coop.
I bought in.
First step was the coop. It was a semi-decent kit that would give 3 chickens comfortable nesting and some shelter from the elements. Took about 4 hours to build.
Then we tried to move it.
One of the side panel’s edges separated from its slats. Not disastrous, but sure made for some anxiety.
Then came the rain.
The promise to not let the chickens on the deck was washed away by heavy rains a couple weeks after we got the chickens. Three adolescent chicks managed to coat the deck with a slimy green/brown glaze with a scent that reminded me of my visit to the stockyards at the State Fair last month.
Fortunately, this time, I didn’t have to say much. My wife promptly replaced the chickens and the coop with a pressure washer that someone gave us.
And we didn’t get a single egg in the 3-week process.