On chickens...

Fluffy two-week old Buff Orpington.

I don't eat chicken. Yes, I have been introducing meat back into my diet from a mostly-vegan standpoint. I am very excited to say that, after much hassling, the local health food/organic store is now carrying grass finished ground beef. While I still have to do some research into how the cattle that that beef comes from are treated and eventually slaughtered (my guess is that this will still not be beef that I feel comfortable eating), I believe the expansion of more humane niche markets is a good sign. I'm also happy to see that it sells fast. There are also tentative plans to support some local farmers and get larger portions of humane pasture-raised meats for freezing, but I doubt my diet will contain that much meat. Eating meat is always less sustainable than eating a diet wholly of plant matter. Of course, the best thing you can do for the environment is to not have children… But I'm not going to beat that particular bush today. Besides, I already have that covered!

So, I don’t I won't eat chicken. There is simply NO way to get humanely raised (in my mind, this means they are pastured) poultry from a store. There are essentially no legal protections for chickens. They aren't even covered under federal welfare or anti-cruelty laws. When you see "free-range" as a label, all that means is they are not in cages. Don’t be fooled by any labels when it comes to marketing animal products – when in doubt, look up the labeling standard. Chickens, by and large, still live in overcrowded filthy spaces, and most of them will never feel the fresh air. Eggs are the same – cage-free or free range gives you the impression these are healthier and happier chickens, but the difference is tiny.

These are some of the reasons my partner and I are diving into chicken ownership. Not for meat, but for eggs. And also to better understand chickens themselves. I spent several weeks at UC Davis working with cattle, for example. And several weeks tending to goats and sheep and other animals. I've spent several years with rodents and other lab animals. With respect to animals that are used (and abused) by humanity, I have little experience with poultry.

The Girls at four weeks: their first time outside!

Portland allows three backyard “hens”, so that’s what we got after some lucky guesswork into their sexes (hey, my animal science education is good for something). Our backyard is big enough, and wild enough, to give three hens foraging space. Given my summer job situation, our hens will have most of the day free to roam and eat grass and insects. My partner has built a large coop which allows them access to the ground without putting them in danger of predators (hopefully). Our neighborhood has raccoons, cats, hawks, and a substantial coyote population, so having a safe indoor space for them to roost in at night is essential. Chickens don’t do well in darkness.

Even though I have a farmer in me, fighting to get out, I am surprised by chickens. I'm used to horses, of course, so when I see herd behaviors in the chickens I get interested. For example, there is a definite alpha female in our flock-of-three.

Ena, sleepy pullet in the garden

In fact, at three weeks old they all had distinct personalities. This is another reason I refuse to eat store-bought poultry. I'm fine with eating animal-people if they live their lives naturally, in a way that lets them be themselves (i.e. exhibit a full range of natural behaviors), but this does not happen with mass-produced livestock. It just doesn’t. Now they are six weeks old and spending their first semi-supervised time out grazing in our lush (or overgrown) back yard.

Our little dark girl (Silver Laced Wyandotte), Ena, is curious and quite intelligent. She masters physical obstacles without trial and error (which the others use) by examining something in depth before tackling it. I look forward to seeing how she tackles free-range life in our back yard. She is always the hardest to catch, but she is calm when we hold her. Ena observes the world through her bright dark eyes with fascination rather than fear. She is also the most fastidious and cleans herself more than the others. Our pretty, smart, girl, I’m really looking forward to Ena’s eventual adult plumage. She already has a silver cape of feathers falling from her head.  She is also the best at flying and seems to enjoy bouncing from place to place without noticeable effort.

Orla, at six weeks.

Britta at seven weeks old - she flew up there herself!

Orla, who comes from a more dual-purpose breed (Buff Orpingtons are intended to be used as egg- and meat-birds), is significantly larger than the other two. She has loads of fabulous amber feathers, and more grow every day. These feathers are noticeably softer than our other two chickens, so, given her temperament, she’s the one you will find us petting the most. She is literally a friendly yellow-orange poof ball. She is our happy-go-lucky chick – she chills out when you're holding her and doesn’t get as excited when something new goes down. When she sleeps, even now, she sprawls. It took her longer to learn to perch than the other two, but when she learns something it sticks.  While she is a follower and not usually the first to investigate something new, when she does investigate, her bulk allows her to push her two fellows around. In these early days of free-range foraging, we have also found that she is quick to catch on that the world is edible. And an edible world is a good world! If you want a chicken to pet, she’s your girl. But if you have food, watch out! She is a food-pecking machine.

 Britta, our Mottled Java, is the bossy one. When Ena goes to investigate something new, Britta is keenly aware. Is it something she wants? If so, she pushes Ena aside. Her feathering is speckled such that she currently has one white wing and one black wing. Her feet and legs are also bright yellow with black freckles – which is very striking! She is more easily excited, but is more independent than the other two, such that she doesn’t scream as readily when separated. Of our girls, she is also the one who had the most issues with pasty bum when she was younger, which we chalk up to the fact that she had much longer downy chick-feathers around her vent than the other two. Possibly because of the extra handling she got then, I’d say she is the most human-aware of our flock. She will come up and sit on you, or hang out on your shoulder. When I tap a perch she hops up for a mealworm treat. She’s not as laid-back as Orla, or as generally observant as Ena; as she gets older, we have found that she is also the slowest to mature physically, with the adult plumage around her head only now beginning replacing her down.

When they are not busy scrounging for food or sleeping, the Girls play. They run around and “bounce” and even do “chicken jousting” where they run head-on at each other either to crash or dodge at the last moment. It’s also hilarious to see one of them (usually Ena) pick up a leaf or stick, triggering the others to chase her and play keep-away. They love exploring, too. It’s enormously relaxing watching our chickens – only seven weeks old now – forage in the yard.

We have yet to see our first egg, but our chickens are already part of the family. Here’s hoping they have long peaceful lives doing what comes naturally to them!

Thanks, but no thanks.

My biological clock isn’t broken. In fact, I’ve been wanting the unthinkable lately. I have the urge to cuddle a drooling, pooping, child. One from which strange smells emanate. Something that will grow like a weed, destroy my possessions, throw food on the floor, and howl for no reason (and at odd hours of the night). I’ll have to dedicate most of my energy to raising it right—but that’s okay!—my maternal instinct must be heard.

Yes, I’d really like a puppy.

I know I’d be a good puppy-mom. There would be the required training (no dog of mine is going to be spoiled); it would get plenty of exercise and the best of diets. Given, of course, that my life situation was radically different than it is today. I refuse to indulge my puppy-cravings when I am unemployed and living in a tiny one bedroom apartment with a guy who is not crazy about the idea of any new pets. I’m sensible, I suppose. Or maybe I just like the idea of having my future pets be healthy, happy, well adjusted individuals who don't rely on me for their emotional well-being!

And I’m still completely baffled by people that have children when they can’t afford to keep them. Why is a pregnancy “always welcome” when someone is unemployed, leeching of friends and family, and stressed beyond belief? Yes, I understand that these people think that they are carrying a complete individual human and that is special to them. Even more, I think these people see only the fantasy world called “parenthood”, and ignore the facts. I can’t ignore the facts—even if I liked children, which I don’t, parenthood wouldn’t be "special" to me. There would have to be a reason behind having a child, and I can’t think of a good one besides "I want one". And really, why do childfree people get pegged as the selfish ones if parents are using that reasoning?

Having a dog, however, makes more sense to me because I’m not naïve of my selfish desire to have others worship me. I’m really a cat person. I sympathize with kitty’s “get out of m’face” attitude, because it’s one I share. Dogs on the other hand are all about loyalty and love. It’s the part of the pack mentality humans haven’t quite perfected. You pour you energy into a puppy, and it pours love, adoration and hero-worship right back at you. Part of me still believes that people have children because they are looking the same kind of trust and adoration from their children. There is a difference of course—any parent that has kids with that in mind shouldn’t even have a dog. These parents are the ones that spoil their kids and are heartbroken when the brat rejects them. They would also spoil a puppy, only to discard it (because it’s just an ‘animal’) when its behavior becomes intolerable. Even if they caused the behavior by never training the poor thing. They never gave it boundaries, which in turn often leads to a dog that isn’t confident and trusting in its own right.

Yes, dogs are a lot like humans. I think having a puppy is analogous in many ways to having a human child. The difference is that they are not human—they are our oldest domesticated partners. We are their pack, and with any good pack relationship there needs to be a leader. People that treat their children as they should a dog—training, positive reinforcement, strict boundaries, and unconditional love—are good parents in my sensibilities.

I still think that the reward compared to the amount of energy invested is much higher for those that choose dogs over human babies. But then again, I’m childfree and always have been. And always will be. As for a puppy? Given time, graduation from law school, and enough money to live in a place where my horses can roam and I have space to exercise a dog..?

I think I’m going to get a Doberman.