The chicks seem crowded in their cardboard box, so we move them out to their coop. They’ll still need a heat source until they get all of their feathers in three or four weeks, so we hang the brooder light from the eaves. It casts a red glow over the plywood floor. I check on the chicks right before bed, fearing they’ll be piled on top of each other shivering. But they’re lined up on the edge of their wooden nesting box. They’re roosting!

The next day we buy a chicken feeder and waterer, and some organic chicken feed. With the new containers, I only have to feed and water once a day, not three. I recommend buying these right from the start.

We let the chicks out to roam the yard a few times each day. But before we can let them out, we have to put our three cats inside. The cats line up at the screen door and watch the chicks’ every move, flicking their tails, drooling, and licking their lips. Midweek, one of the cats gets outside. He races across the yard and makes a beeline for the chicks. My husband intercepts him, but it’s a dramatic scene. Our neighbor assures us that once the chickens are cat-sized, they’ll all coexist peacefully in the backyard. For now, corralling the cats while the chicks roam is anything but easy, especially because I usually have an eleven-month-old baby in my arms.

The chicks get more feathers everyday. The yellow chicks are turning brown and white. The black chick without the comb is significantly bigger than the other black chick. I’m not sure what to make of that. By the end of the week, the chicks are mostly feathered from the head down and look less like chicks and more like small chickens. They also now have very defined ears on the sides of their heads.

They love the empty raised bed near their coop. They run back and forth, pecking and scratching, throwing dried leaves in the air with their feet. It’s entertaining to watch them. Sometimes I lose track of time … until I hear a cat moan from the door.

New to the Hen Diaries? Read Weeks One and Two.

It seems like everyone’s brooding chicks these days. Three of my friends are building coops, and I hear hens clucking and squawking all over the neighborhood. We inherited a stately hen chateau when we bought our house last February … and we couldn’t think of a reason not to take the plunge this spring and adopt some chicks.

Warning: we are not the people to instruct others on the care and upbringing of hens. (Translation: we have no idea what we’re doing!) However, maybe our clueless bumbling will inspire you to jump in and adopt some feathered egg-laying friends of your own.

Chickens in the city?

Backyard hens are gaining popularity for a reason. If you feed them well, they’ll produce eggs so delectable you’ll never want to order an omelet in a restaurant again. My neighbor’s hens lay eggs with bright yellow yolks that taste infinitely better than the $5.00-a-carton organic ones we splurge on. Hens dine on weeds and bugs, so they’ll help you in the garden. And their plentiful droppings are a boon to the compost pile. Chickens are also relatively easy to care for. I’ve been assured that they require much less babying than our three spoiled cats. Of course, you’ll need a coop and a very-secure pen to keep predators out.

The adoption

On Thursday, my husband goes to buy the chicks at our local feed store, while I stay home with our napping baby. We have decided four chicks will be a good number, in case one doesn’t make it, or one turns out to be a rooster. My husband says he will ask the salesperson what kind of hens will be the best egg-layers for our backyard habitat.

He comes home with two black chicks and two yellow chicks in a paper bag, a bag of medicated chick starter food, and a brooder light. The chicks are balls of fluff with reptilian eyes and giant feet. I love them immediately. “What kind are they?” I ask, gazing at them.

My husband looks perplexed. He shrugs. Then he assures me he knows he got egg-laying pullets (girl chicks). He thinks the breed of the yellow one might start with a “B”. Yes, I’m just a tad concerned that we have just purchased four roosters. But I try to tell myself that our chicken adventure has just gotten a bit more adventurous.

Home sweet home

We move the chicks into the home they will live in for the first few weeks – a box in the guest room. We line the box with a towel and use shredded newspaper for litter. But it seems to get dirty instantly (Chicks poop a lot!), and I am changing the litter at least twice a day. We buy some more absorbent “pet litter”, which works much better. Now I only have to change it every other day. Although I’ve read we might want to buy special water and food containers, we use regular bowls instead. They work, but I have to change their water and scrub their food bowl often. (Chicks poop a lot!)

Over the week, I watch them and talk to them. They’re entertaining, as they wander around their box, peeping and scratching at their litter. At first they seem scared when I pick them up, but soon they relax. I rub their backs and they sing.

They grow fast. By the end of the week, they are more feathers and less fluff, and they’re much bigger. I hit myself for not taking a photo of them the day we brought them home.

Bonded

On the first sunny day of the week, we take them outside. I’m sure they’ll try to run away, so we sit with our feet together and our legs extended to form a diamond. I lift them out of the box one-by-one, ready to block their escapes. (Most people use chicken wire for this purpose.) But they don’t run away at all. They move closer to me. One of them climbs onto my arm. The others follow. They love me!

I’m completely sold on backyard hens.