We were not ready.
Turns out, reading about chickens and living with chickens are about as similar as watching a cooking show and actually making a soufflé. One falls flat a lot more often than you'd think.
The great chick acquisition began with a simple trip to the local farm store, where we confidently marched up to a bin full of peeping fluffballs and were promptly hit with a curveball: “These are straight runs,” the clerk said, before disappearing into the back like a puff of smoke.
Straight runs? We nodded like we totally understood — then promptly backed away from the chicks like they were booby-trapped.
Google later told us “straight run” means the chicks are a mix of males and females, and unless you’ve got psychic poultry powers, you won’t know which is which until you either hear a crow or see an egg. Since our goal was eggs (and avoiding the kind of rooster-fueled neighborhood diplomacy that ends in a noise complaint), we decided to wait until we could be a bit more sure of what we were buying.
Why Chickens, You Ask?
Two main reasons:
- Zaine, our grandson, is utterly enchanted by chickens. He’s been known to dash off mid-sentence to go egg-spotting at the neighbor’s coop like a tiny, enthusiastic poultry detective.
- Eggs. Not fertilized ones. Just good, honest, breakfast-making eggs. Hence, roosters were not on our guest list.
We live in an area where chickens roam like tiny, feathered rebels — unbothered by fences or personal space. The rooster-to-hen ratio out here seems healthy, but with just four birds, we weren’t interested in adding any macho feathered fellows to our flock. That doesn’t mean the local gents won’t come calling, but we’ll cross that awkward interspecies dating bridge when we get there.
April 6th: The Day the Peeping Began
Our chicks hatched on April 6th, 2025 — a date now etched into our memory somewhere between birthdays and “the time we bought four animals that poop constantly.”
We kept them in a warmer at first, but this is Florida — where “spring” feels a lot like “someone left the oven door open.” So, a little ahead of the usual timeline, we gently transitioned them into the coop for daytime hours. At night, when the temperature dips below “tropical spa,” we bring them inside like tiny feathery houseguests with VIP status.
Uninvited Guests with Terrible Bathroom Etiquette
While our chicks have been model tenants, two local Orpingtons have taken a liking to the top of our coop — roosting there nightly and leaving behind gifts no one asked for. We've tried gentle persuasion, then stern stares, and now we’re on to bird spikes. We’re hoping the message is clear: This is not a chicken Airbnb. So far, no cattle prod has been required, but let’s just say it’s on the list of “ideas we won’t officially try, but might talk about at dinner.”
Big Feet, Big Dreams
One thing that’s blown us away? How fast these chicks are growing. Especially the feet. Honestly, it’s like watching popcorn expand in slow motion. If we had to buy them shoes, we’d need a second mortgage. Good thing chickens prefer going barefoot — hippies at heart, all of them.
Friendly Feathers
We handle the chicks every day. Not just because we adore them (we do), but because we want them to be comfortable around humans — especially Zaine. He’s counting down the days until they’re big enough to follow him around like a pint-sized chicken parade. And when that day comes, we’re going to need a camera — and probably an internet connection to share the hilarity.
The Flock, Officially Named
As with any respectable household, names were assigned early:
- Nugget – Ellen’s choice. Probably best not to read too much into that one.
- Lilly – Zaine’s sweet pick for the gentlest one.
- Nasa – Because Zaine is space-crazy and apparently hopes this chicken will one day achieve liftoff.
- Joplin – Named after the city where Zaine was born. Or perhaps in honor of Janis. Either way, it’s got a vibe.
Color-Coded Chick Chaos
With four fluffy Orpingtons flapping around, telling them apart quickly became a game of Guess That Chicken. They all looked nearly identical — except for Nugget, who’s just a wee bit smaller and struts with a slight underdog swagger.
To avoid a lifetime of mistaken identity (and potential poultry therapy sessions), we got creative: a dab of food coloring to the rescue! Now, Joplin rocks a stylish green, Nasa is boldly marked in blue (space-themed, naturally), and Lilly sports a sunny yellow hue. Nugget? She stays au naturel — our little minimalist.
Now, even Zaine can tell them apart, and the coop has never looked more colorful.
We’re only a couple of weeks in, but already, this has been one of the most chaotic, heartwarming, and unexpectedly funny things we’ve ever done. These four tiny birds have already become part of the family — loud, messy, and full of personality.
And as for being prepared? Well, let’s just say we’re learning to fly the coop as we go.
A Big Cluck of Thanks
We owe a huge thank you to Bunnell Feed and Supply, where the ever-helpful manager, Jason, didn’t just sell us chicks — he helped launch our chicken-keeping adventure with confidence and kindness. From answering our rookie questions to ensuring we left with exactly what we needed (and none of what we didn’t), George earned our loyalty faster than a hen spots a mealworm.
We’ll continue to do business with George because, while four chicks might not seem like much, every little flock matters — and it’s good to know there’s a local store that truly supports its community. (Unlike that unnamed national chain where we first encountered the mysterious phrase “straight run” and a disappearing sales clerk.)
Thanks, George. You helped get us off the ground — and we’re not winging it anymore.
