Stan has had back yard chickens for a few years.

They weren’t something he wanted as a childhood dream, but his adopted kids wanted chickens so he built them a first rate coop, feeds them, keeps their cage clean, and can’t kill them because his daughter would cry.

” Do they lay eggs in the winter, ” I ask?

” They slow down, ” Stan says, ” they lay eggs four or five years. ”

” Then what? ”

Stan takes a moment and judiciously answers, ” Leave the coop and the gate to the back yard open and hope they take a trip and forget how to get home. ” 

Chickens are eaten all over the world, but looking at them makes me uneasy.

Why do I want to eat an animal that lives in a cage, pecks in the dirt for its food,and use their front yard as a bathroom?

 What does Stan do with the cage when his kids grow up and leave home?

The coop is too small for Mother-In-Law quarters and it doesn’t come with a big screen TV.




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