Coop_ A Year of Poultry, Pigs, and Parenting - Michael Perry [127]
Hi Kira:
First and foremost I shall apologize for (A) the cobbled-up state of my chicken operation, and (B) the length of this set of directions, which far exceeds the complexity of the tasks at hand and will take longer to read than the time required to actually care for the animals.
PIGS
They oughta be fine, really. I have put feed in their feeder and they have water. If you have time on Saturday, lug a pail of goat milk (in the fridge behind first garage door—keypad is broken, use opener on windowsill over kitchen sink) down and pour it in their handcrafted blue plastic trough. Then watch in wonder as they snarf it down, sometimes blowing bubbles out their snoots. If you have some spare sweet corn, throw it at them. You are allowed to scratch the pigs if you wish. There is a scratching stick conveniently placed near the fence for just that purpose. Please do not attempt to ride the pigs or take them to town for tattoos and piercings.
CHICKENS
I have done my best to eradicate all the chickens but have attained only about a 50 percent kill rate so you still have to feed the survivors. One black hen might be limping because today I—wait for the irony here—dropped a gigantic roll of chicken wire on top of her. You really have to aim, and even lead them a little in order to do that, which is not easy with a heavy roll of chicken wire.
The white chickens are basically meat cell replicators on legs. Pigs with feathers. Dumber than a box of, of, of, well, feathers. In the morning, open their little flap door and set them loose to run wild and free (within the confines of their fence). To access the compound, undo the netting where it is held in place on the coop with a drywall screw. You can load their feeder right up, they’ll eat at it all day. Replenish their water. The hose is strung right over there. Don’t forget to turn the water off when you’re done because it leaks and also Anneliese has a little lecture she gives to people who leave the water on, if you’d like I can recite it by heart. I usually put their water and feeder out during the day but you can probably leave it in, that way if it rains the feed won’t get all sogged up. The feed bag is right inside the coop. There should be a little cup inside the bag but I might have forgotten to put it there. Fill the feeder up again at night, please.
The layers are mad at me because I penned them in today. They like to run free, but by penning them up I save you the trouble of running after them at dusk. It’s a nice little evening frolic, and I rather enjoy it, but then that’s me. So just turn ’em out in the morning, reload their feed and water (you probably gotta reach in under the netting divider to get to the feeder and waterer), and shuck 3–4 cobs of sweet corn (under the white plastic bucket under the brick) for them. If you think of it and have time, take the rake and give them some lawn clippings. It keeps them occupied and lends an earthy flavor to the eggs they don’t lay. When you do open the gate to open and close their coop door, keep an eye on them: they are alacritous little buggers and will shoot right out on you. The gate as you will see is held in place by tension and two nails. The chickens tend to put themselves in at dusk, and should be waiting for you to close the door.
That should cover it. Call me at any hour with questions. There are no dumb questions, Kira, only questions that make me chuckle condescendingly.
We are very grateful that you are willing (or guilt-laden enough) to help us out like this.
I usually get paid by the word.
Pig-butchering day dawns crisp and sunny, cold enough that the chickens are fluffed out on the roost. The coolness makes it a good day for handling meat. I’m happy for that,