Chickens--the new cure for depression

Ok, I admit it. I have been very depressed of late. The major cause is being out of work and having problems finding another job. I can generally find a job pretty quick, but with the state of the economy and unemployment being what it is in Oregon, I am having real issues. My dog, Bindi, has really been a source of pleasure through all of my down days, but she is willing to stay in bed with me all day and is not really much of a motivator. Housework has never been my passion so that doesn't motivate me much either. I ran across a post about a poultry swap in Albany, Oregon that was held on Saturday, April 24th, so I decided to go. Doug went with me, well actually, Doug drove me to the meet up as I am just not enthused about driving. I think it is the nine years I spent commuting 35 miles on way to work. At least I had a job.

We arrived at the meet up a little late and I was concerned that we would not find anything interesting left to look at. Boy, was I wrong! Chicken people run something like pagan time, which is generally at least 30 minutes late. I was met by a very nice lady who was with the Backyardchicken.com, host of the event. There were not as many chickens as I had expected and it did not take long for Doug and I to walk the line of cars, trucks and vans with their chickens on display. There really were not many baby chicks there, but there were some beautiful roosters. Since Salem does not allow roosters in town, they were not candidates even though many were free.

Now, I have always loved cochin chickens. They are the ones with the feathered legs and feet and the puffy butts. Doug and I were walking along the line of vehicles, admiring the occupants of cages and dog crates. There was a large variety of big chickens, but my attention was soon caught by a cage of four chickens on the back of a truck. I pointed them out to Doug and we walked over to look at them. Sure enough, there were two bantam cochin hens. I knew it. I wanted them. Doug said they looked nice, in the cage, advising me that they would not look so nice in our yard. You see, we came to the meet up with the intention of finding a hutch for a rabbit that I was recently given by my good friend Betsy, so chickens were not on the "menu" that day. The seller of these hens was a boy about 10 years old. He told us that he wanted $3.00 each for the hens. I told him I thought that was a great price and that they were very pretty. We walked on down the line casually stopping and looking at more roosters. This little boy was not going to let us get away. As we came up the other side of the line he met us saying that he would "give" us the hens. I told Doug I wanted them, but would pay the eager salesman for them. We ended up with both hens for $5.00. The father provided a feed sack to put them in as we were not prepared for bringing home chickens, we were looking for a rabbit hutch. I did find a hutch that I liked but the lady who had it did not seem to be horribly pleasant to deal with and the hutch was priced way out of my range. So, into the truck went the hens. I continued to shop while Doug talked with a very nice couple next to where we parked. They had roosters too. Of course, since chicken people run on pagan time, I came across a late comer who had some beautiful frizzle chicks. And of course, there was a black pullet, 7 weeks old that caught my eye. Interesting enough the eager boy salesman was there also looking at the frizzles. The lady who owned the chicks was not at her car so I waited. She finally came back to her car and I asked to see the pullet. Once the little black ball of disorganized feathers was placed in my hand, that is where she stayed. She was so cute. Tiny little comb and bright black eyes nestled in a mass of feathers that looked like they had gone though a hurricane. I paid the asking price without question and asked for some feed for her. I was given two zip lock bags of feed and wandered back to the truck and to my awaiting husband. He saw me coming. He saw the black mass of curly feathers. I saw the look in his eye. I walked right up to him and said "Look what I got you!" He looked at the black puff ball and said "Cute". I told him I was going to get into the truck as it was now raining and I was getting cold, and worse yet, the frizzle seemed really cold too. Doug mumbled something under his breath like, "I thought you were kidding about the pullet". Into the truck the pullet and I went. We left that day with two bantam cochin hens and one bantam frizzle pullet. I left that day unknowingly with the beginning of the resolution of my depression.

Doug and I spent the rest of the day buying chicken feed and designing a chicken coop for the girls. Doug is actually quite handy when it comes to building things. I am really thankful for that skill that he has as I can think things up but he is the one that puts it all together while correcting my design flaws. He determined that we would use the old hamster/rat/oppossum cage, yes, oppossum cage for a coop. There were several cedar boards that were once a box turtle corral that he used for the exterior covering of the said cage. He built it, I held the boards as he screwed everything together. The inital construction did not take long and the girls were released into their new coop filled with soft shavings by evening. As far as the frizzle goes, she was too young to be out in the coop so she came into the house in a tub with a wire lid. And that is still yet another story.