6 Lessons From A Once-Reluctant Backyard Chicken Farmer

Back in 2011, my wife became a stay-at-home mom to prepare for our three adopted kids to come home. That’s when it all started.

Amid the seemingly endless paperwork required for an international adoption of a sibling group, I noticed she was “nesting” in more ways than one. She started watching Alaska: The Last Frontier, a show about a homesteading family on Discovery. Her Pinterest board and Google search results exploded with gardening tips, sourdough recipes, and pages about home canning. 

Then one day, she looked at me and said, “Honey, can we get some chickens?”

My answer was a resounding “no.” As a child of Bergen County, New Jersey (think the opening montage to The Sopranos), the closest I ever got to farm life was visiting the small zoo at Van Saun Park with my grandfather. There was no way I was going to become a suburban farmer, no matter how much I enjoy making frittatas on the weekends.

Nevertheless, she persisted. Over the years, it became a running joke between us and our growing family. Chicken-related pins and Facebook links showed up regularly in my email inbox. She served me my morning coffee in a thrifted mug with a rooster on it. Even moving in with my elderly in-laws (the least farmer-esque people I know) did not dim her hopes.

Then two years ago, our grape-nutty state legislature started enforcing a 2020 law requiring that all eggs sold in Colorado be raised “cage-free,” thereby increasing prices for what used to be a cheap source of protein. My wife renewed the pressure with support from her mother. Like a good husband and son-in-law, I caved, big time.

Since then, we’ve been the proud owners of a small flock of chickens. Like with most surprises, the learning curve has been steep but rewarding. For those of you considering taking this step in the wake of recent egg prices, I offer these six lessons.

1. Their Coop Matters

Once your new flock gets past the “so cute and fluffy” stage, they are going to need a place to live and work, which means a backyard coop. There are many options available for purchase and even more plans available online for those who have the time and inclination. Whatever option you choose, don’t skimp.

One of the selling points my wife used in her argument was that we could easily and cheaply house our chickens by adapting a child’s outdoor wooden playhouse purchased from Amazon for about 100 bucks. When I finally got around to making the required modifications (full disclosure: I had to be nagged), the chickens moved in, and all seemed well.

Three months later, we realized nine chickens put a lot more wear and tear on a playhouse than even the most rambunctious toddler. In particular, the cheap plywood floor rotted away under the weight of its inhabitants and their poop despite our liberal use of Walmart peel-and-stick linoleum tiles.

We ended up purchasing a larger coop and run from a company in Utah. This summer, we plan to upgrade again by putting in a concrete pad and adapting a 10-by-12-foot gazebo. My wife says this will be their “forever coop.” I’m not sure I believe her.

2. Dogs Are Apex Backyard Predators

If you have other animals, you are going to have to teach them how to deal with these new arrivals. From the very beginning, our Siberian husky took an unhealthy interest in our chickens, so you can imagine what happened when our youngest son accidentally left the door to the run open one December morning.

Oddly enough, our investigation revealed that the birds suffered only minor wounds; their deaths seem to have been from the stress of being chased and sniffed by a curious quasi-wolf (apparently, chickens can be scared to death — who knew?). In the end, we went from a flock of nine to a lone survivor and eight plucked and cleaned birds in the freezer, which leads me to my third lesson.

3. ‘Chicken Math’ Is Real

The following spring, we had to restore our flock. Indeed, with the new larger coop, we had room to expand it, so we ordered 20 new chicks online. When one of those new arrivals died, my wife took our children to our local Bomgaars to buy a single replacement and came back with four “Easter eggers.” This year, my daughter’s homeschooling science curriculum requires an experiment involving animals; just guess what she’s chosen to raise and study.

The data is conclusive: If you start with a small flock, you will end up with a medium-sized flock, even if you don’t intend to breed. Accept your fate and plan accordingly.

4. Neighbors Like Chickens (and Eggs)

One of my main counterarguments over the years was that our HOA would never allow us to keep chickens. This passing of the buck became null and void the second the neighborhood kids started stopping by our fence to gawk at the new additions to our family. Their parents have also been very understanding. I attribute this to our refusal to keep a rooster and the periodic shameless egg bribery we engage in.

5. Backyard Eggs Are Just Better

In the end, it’s all about those delightful “butt nuggets.” Our breed lays eggs smaller than the eggs you get in the store, and they come in strange shades of brown, green, blue, and even purple. Their shells are thicker too (a result of feeding the chickens their own eggshells). But when you crack them open, the yolks are a massive explosion of bright yellow that whisks up creamy as you prepare a goat cheese omelet.

It’s not just about looks and taste. Studies have shown backyard eggs are more nutritious than their store-bought counterparts because of their freshness (days or even hours versus months) and the chickens’ superior diet (especially if you feed your chickens kitchen scraps along with standard feed). If you do the free-range thing, the chickens’ diet is even better as they hunt down and destroy garden pests.

6. A Little Self-Sufficiency Is a Helluva Drug

I have come to accept and even love raising chickens. Yes, the eggs are wonderful, but that’s only part of the reason. The rest has to do with a somewhat corny yet definitely powerful American idea: that one should establish a degree of rugged individualism in one’s life. 

Even as egg prices are finally dropping, I know that in an increasingly interdependent world where systems grow ever more powerful, there is at least one small area where my family can, in de Tocqueville’s words, “sever [ourselves] from the mass of [our] fellow creatures … [and leave] society at large to itself.” I may not be Pa Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie, but small rebellions are often the most satisfying.

On the other hand, last night my wife asked me, “Honey, can we get a goat?”

Robert Busek is a Catholic homeschooling father of six who has taught history and Western Civilization in both traditional and online classrooms for over twenty years. His essays have also been published in The American Conservative and The American Spectator. The views he expresses here are his own.