The Not-So-Glamorous Life of a Chicken Lady

When most people think of chickens, they picture them clucking sweetly as they wander through green pastures, pecking at bugs and laying fresh eggs like feathery little angels.

At least, that was my fantasy.

The reality? Let’s just say it’s not exactly a scene from a farmhouse catalog. Chickens, as it turns out, are not always the gentle, friendly creatures I imagined. They can be territorial, aggressive, and downright mean to each other.

Case in point: Last Sunday, I added two smaller hens to the flock.

Today, I found one of them dead in the coop.

Not from natural causes. Oh no. This was a murder. Cold-blooded, feathery coop crime. I have no idea which hen or hens were involved, but the silence from the flock is suspicious. Not one cluck of remorse.

Now I find myself seriously questioning whether I even want these chickens.

Aside from turning into a murder squad, they’ve been a complete disappointment in the egg department. If we get one egg every other day, it’s a miracle. These girls are clearly not union workers.

And the poop? Don’t even get me started.

They poop wherever they happen to be standing when the mood strikes. Keeping the coop clean and bearable is practically a full-time job. Picture me out there on the daily, shovel in hand, wearing knee-high rubber boots, mismatched workout shorts, and a t-shirt that may or may not be inside out. Honestly, that might be the real reason my husband was so taken with my recent job interview outfit.

Because let’s face it—when your baseline look is “barnyard sanitation worker,” anything with buttons looks like couture.

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Chicken ownership: less “Little House on the Prairie,” more “CSI: Coop Scene Investigation.”

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🐓 Have backyard chickens tested your patience—or your wardrobe? Drop your best (or worst) chicken tale in the comments below!