Owning chickens has pretty much been a delight. I'm not going to lie. A delight with a side of chicken crap. They're cute, pretty low-maintenance, and I love their little peeping noises, but seriously they crap a lot.
I don't know how this happened. I don't have children. I specifically chose smaller dogs so that they made smaller poo, but still somehow my life is run by poo. The dang rabbit poops his body weight everyday (I really don't see how he absorbs any nutrients), and Buster's size is misleading, because the turds populating my backyard are about the size of my head. Maybe (who still resides with us, coincidentally) hates getting her fancy tootsies wet on the morning dew, so she craps all over the deck. Heaven forbid you have to take the compost out to the backyard at night, because you best be wearing galoshes.
And now chicken poo. I had no idea chicks were such disgusting slobs. They're fluffy and adorable, and look as pure as the driven snow, but don't let that fool you. They poo in their water, in their food, on each other's backs, in your hand, everywhere. It wouldn't be so bad, except that you're supposed to touch them as often as possible while they're young so they get used to human contact (how else do you think they'll let me pilfer their babies?) . I suppose it wouldn't be so bad if they weren't confined to three square feet of space. But every day, I don my hazmat suit and cuddle the little crap fiends. Once they're banned to the backyard, I'll have to destroy this corner of my dining room with a controlled burn, but at least I'll get free-range, organic, local eggs! That's what this is all about, right?! RIGHT?!