Free Range Chickens Means Chicken Shit EVERYWHERE

Yesterday was finally a warm, albeit soggy, day.  It was the first day in months I didn’t have to bundle up my feet in boots.  I was able to let them breathe in a cute pair of pink flats.  It was marvelous.

Until my pink flat squished into a greenish black pile of chicken shit on the driveway.  I’m not sure which was worse, the smell or cleaning the gooey chicken shit off my once impeccable pink shoe.  Despite my best efforts I don’t think I’ll be wearing those smudged ballet flats anymore.  In my shit fueled anger I changed my plans (and my shoes) and headed straight for Home Depot.

Courtesy of my husband’s handy efforts in the mushy weather, this was the end result.  Please excuse the dirty chicken coop exterior, spring cleaning is coming now that the snow is gone!

Take that you feathered ladies, no more shitting in the yard, on the driveway, on the front walk, on the patio, or anywhere else you decide to wiggle your tail.  Thanks to the disgusting stain you left on my pink shoe you will now be confined to one area of the yard and that is that.

Don’t worry, in my race to build the chicken run I did manage to research the specific size requirements.  Our resident 8 birds and 4 winter visitors have far more than the recommended 10 square feet of run space per bird.  Not to mention the coop was generously sized to begin with.  If hawks become an issue we’ll cover the whole thing later but I wanted an immediate solution to the shit problem.

Two days in and so far so good.  Only one chicken has managed to make it over the relatively short fencing and I’ve suspected she’s smarter than the rest of the flock all along.  I suppose one chicken shitting in the yard is a vast improvement over twelve chickens shitting in the yard.

The girls don’t seem to mind the new digs either.

Ahh to think of the barefoot freedom we’ll be able to enjoy this summer.  Cool grass between our toes and no greenish black mines to watch out for.  So long free ranging chickens!  Maybe if you’re good I’ll let you out occasionally to eat the ticks.

Maybe.

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