Well, here I am, owning the one animal I swore I'd never have. Sometimes words jump up and bite your butt. Hubby and I live on several rural acres outside of Orlando with 5 dogs, 5 cats and two geese.
I grew up on a farm in western Maryland an my mother always had chickens. Lord did I hate them. But their eggs spoiled me for life against eating store boughts. They always were free range, table scraps were thrown out for them but I don't remember ever buying feed. Early hatched chicks were brought into the house until the weather warmed enough for them but other than that they were left to fend for themselves. They were always healthy. So I find some of the posts worring about this feed and that feed kinda puzzling.
Anyway, hubby(the city boy) came home with 20 chicks. 10 Rhode Island Reds, 2 Dominicas, 3 Standard Cochins and 5 Bantam Cochins. He built what is now being refered to as the Chicken Mansion. He sits for hours and watches them. Now he has me doing it. I explained to him that where I came from the words chicken and pet do not fit in the same sentence. Now I have my favorite little buff cochin that runs to me when I go out. Lord, I think I'm channeling my mother.
Wish me luck, I guess I now have "pet chickens"