My partner and I live on 4.5 acres sharing borders with five other properties ranging from 1- 40 acres. Most of those folks are so far from our house we can’t even see them. The owners of the smallest property, Sue and Daniel, moved here seven years ago and turned out to be good neighbours.
Back in October 2019 they pulled into my driveway holding a Silver Laced Wyandotte hen. They found her alone in the woods and after a bit of a wild chicken chase, including a wasp sting, they were able to nab her. Unfortunately, despite appearing quite healthy she never laid and then took a turn six months later. Her necropsy revealed ovarian cancer.
Sue & Layla October 2019
We have found ourselves without a dog since our standard poodle died in August last year. Having pets or livestock is a real impediment to traveling. Both my partner and I have taken short trips (mine have all been work related) but rarely go anywhere together. Last spring we took an overnight trip to Vancouver. The cat was left indoors with a litterbox and my flock were provided with plenty of food and water. Their coop has an automatic door which works well and my birds reliably go in on time every night.
We decided to take another overnight trip at Christmas. My older birds like to hit the hay early but the teenagers linger and just lately have occasionally missed the door closure. Sometimes it’s just one or two, and once a bunch of them, so I decided I needed someone to check them at bedtime to ensure everyone made it safely into the coop. I don’t have much of a predator problem but it’s asking for trouble leaving your birds outside overnight.
Sue came over the day before we left for a quick lesson on chicken lockup procedures. I explained how the auto door worked and assured her if anyone was left out it would probably just be a single bird or two. I suggested instead of entering my muddy 30’x40′ pen (we live on the west coast of Canada where it rains all winter) that she shine a bright flashlight through the fencing at the three places a tardy bird would be hunkered down. If she didn’t see anyone then she could trot on home secure in the knowledge she did her job. I pointed to the 8’x 8’ three-sided shed across from the coop. It’s filled with hanging garden tools, some totes and buckets and said, “No one ever roosts in here so don’t worry about that”. Little did I know.
On the big day Sue emailed a bit earlier than the planned 4:30pm check and asked if she should go then because it was so windy and rainy. My flock recognizes people and I feared if she showed up while it was still quite light someone would scream the “stranger danger” alert and they’d all scatter. When that happens it’s more difficult to rustle them in. I also thought if the door wasn’t closed for the night there was a chance some of them might come out to see what was going on. Chickens suffer from FOMO (the fear of missing out), just like people.
An hour or so later I received this email:
“It was a dark and stormy night. Or maybe it was only dusk and drizzly. Either way it was quite an adventure. We arrived at approximately 4:40, the automatic door was shut and ALL of the chickens were on the wrong side of it. When they saw me come in the gate approximately 90% of them did what you said they would do and headed for the main coop door. I let that crew in and waited at the door while a few more checked me out and decided that maybe I wasn’t an axe murderer, then skipped on by me and into the coop.
Much heated discussion regarding the roosts, which was whose and all that, then they quieted down. It was then that Daniel spotted Foghorn and Freckles up in the corner by the cisterns. You know that spot that you said they never go? There. I think Fog was trying to tell Freckles to get her ass into the coop but she was digging in for the long haul. There were words but then Fog left in a huff and headed into the coop without her.
I moved some buckets and squeezed into the space between the fence and the mud-crusted shelf to give her a little nudge with the handle of an old broom. That caused a kerfuffle sending her under the cistern stand and my flashlight into a mud puddle. She would not budge. It was starting to get dark by then so Daniel put his light on the door to the coop and I lit her path to it but no, she wasn’t having it. She headed right back into the farthest corner of the shed and hunkered down.
Finally, not without some fear for my personal safety, I just went in and picked her up and carried her into the coop. She didn’t even make a fuss about it. I put her down by the door and she casually strolled through like she’d just been Ubered in, cheeky little bitch. I think she’s my favourite. We did a circle check, all is well. Have a lovely evening.”
I read it aloud to the folks we were sharing the holidays with and we all had a good laugh imagining the scene. I told Sue that I should charge her entertainment tax for her adventures in chicken sitting.
After that fiasco she decided to check the following morning to make sure the auto door wasn’t malfunctioning and sent a note saying, “The kids are alright’.
In keeping with their annual tradition, the next day Sue brought the flock’s Christmas gift: ashes for their dust bath.
Four years of chicken gifts from Sue & Daniel
BTW: My birds are not called Foghorn and Freckles, Sue just made those names up to add flavour to the story. And both Sue and Daniel are vegan so I can’t even offer them the great eggs my hens lay.
All photos Bitchin’ Chickens. Featured photo: iStock
If you’ve got a fun story to tell about your experience with chicken sitting drop me a line using the ‘contact’ button on my homepage.
Bitchin' Chickens 
That was funny! So glad y’all were able to get away and enjoy your holiday. Your friends sound awesome! – Alicia
LikeLiked by 1 person
The funny part is, in the week since then, my whole flock has gone to bed before the auto door closed. I think they were just pranking my neighbours.
LikeLike