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A couple of weeks ago, my friend N over at Two Chicks Nest sent me an article she found in the NY Times about backyard chickens. You don’t have to read it.  Instead, the article can pretty much be summarized with the following:

The Bay Area is unmatched in its embrace of the urban backyard chicken trend. But raising chickens, which promises delicious, untainted eggs and instant membership in the local food movement, isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Chickens, it turns out, have issues.

They get diseases with odd names, like pasty butt and the fowl plague. Rats and raccoons appear out of nowhere. Hens suddenly stop laying eggs or never produce them at all. Crowing roosters disturb neighbors.

The problems get worse. Unwanted urban chickens are showing up at local animal shelters. Even in the best of circumstances, chickens die at alarming rates.

This, without a doubt, has been our EXACT experience raising chickens.  See the two lovely ladies in the photo above?  That’s Buttercup and Dahlia.  Dahlia, the chicken on the right, died last month.  She was one of my very favorite chickens, and she died out of the middle of nowhere.  And she’s not the only one.

You may recall that I’ve shared the deaths of a couple of chickens with you guys; after that, it might seem like everything’s been peachy.  But the sad truth is this: since we started this endeavor, we’ve had ten chickens.  And we only have five left.  Yes, that’s right.  We’ve lost half of our flock.  Rest in peace, Lily, Petunia, Marigold, Daisy, and Dahlia.

The truth is, there’s really no way to tell if a chicken is sick before it’s too late.  We’ve rushed 3 of 5 chickens to the vet, only to be told that nothing can be done.  Right now, out of our five chickens, only one is laying us eggs.  Two chickens are molting (and we’re unclear when they’ll start laying us eggs again), one of them randomly stopped laying, and the other one has never laid an egg in her entire chicken life.

So yes, we are having problems, and there have been times when I think to myself, “this is too hard. I don’t want to do this again.”  But those are usually times right after a chicken has died, or when one chicken (::cough cough:: Rosarita ::cough cough::) is squawking louder than I’ve ever heard anything squawk before.

This is not to say that we regret raising chickens–not by any means.

Raising chickens has been incredibly rewarding.  I have a whole new respect for birds now, and an even more heightened awareness of the suffering chickens experience while being raised for meat and eggs.  Each one of these chickens has a personality–they’re cute, they’re funny and they’re totally sweet.  And as Y said, I’d rather live 6 months in our backyard than a lifetime in a factory farm, that’s for sure.

A few things we have decided on:

• We think raising chicks is a really educational experience that would be great for kids.  However, if we need more chickens before we have kids, we will not be raising them from chicks.  When you raise them from little bitty babies and then they die, it’s that much harder.
• Five chickens are enough for us.  There’s really no need to have more than that.
• The eggs are absolutely, 100% worth it.  First off, we know that we aren’t contributing to the horrors of animal torture (and seriously, that’s what it is), and secondly, fresh eggs are delicious.  I shared some with my friend Cara, and she said she couldn’t believe what a difference they made.  Y made us Crème brûlée over the weekend, and it was amazing.

I’m definitely not saying that backyard chickenry sucks, and I’m not warning against it.  However, we were under the impression that raising chickens was “easy” and “impossible to screw up.”  And to some extent, that’s true:  after all, none of our chickens have died as a result of our screwing up.  But really, when you have to bury half of your backyard chickens, you’re probably not going to be using the word “easy,” whether it was your fault or not.