In the years that I have been working with and learning from chickens, I have learned a lot about how powerful a will to live really is. I have had a few chickens clearly let me know they were ready to die after struggling with health problems, but mostly, I have observed that chickens really want to live–just like most of us.
Today, I gave Vanilla a spa day. I have been working too much this week, and I haven’t kept a super close eye on the flock. Vanilla is molting and was looking a little rough. I did do a mite check on the flock this week, but I didn’t check everyone–just my usual suspects (all of my older chickens with weaker little bodies) and then a random sampling from the young, healthy girls. I don’t always have time to check everyone, but I have to do pretty regular mite checks on the chickens because ours are not protected from wildlife.
They are fenced, but birds, squirrels, and chipmunks have interactions with our chickens. I have seen chipmunks playing with the baby chicks. It was fantastic, and it happens quite a bit. This is not good biosecurity. If bird flu came to our area, we would have to figure out a way to cover our run and keep the chickens in the run. They would be devastated. They live very good lives, and part of that goodness is getting to watch a chipmunk. Truly, some of them will show interest in the chipmunks, and I don’t think to eat, though I could be wrong. But I have definitely seen the chickens hanging out with the crows in the fall when they are all eating from underneath the leaves. It’s a joyous time to be a bird of any kind during that season.
This leads me back to Vanilla because, much like Mary Jane, Vanilla has an amazing will to live. Vanilla is a meat bird. She was pardoned in 2018, along with Millie, because Millie-Vanilla, because girl you know it’s true.
I loved having both Millie and Vanilla. They were the best birds. Very sweet, very smart. But they grew apart as friends. Vanilla made friends with Mary Jane, as well as Emily and Charlotte, our Buff Orpingtons. Millie never made friends. Neither one of them had genetics on their side, but I noticed Millie deteriorated when she quit hanging out with Vanilla and was alone more. It could be a coincidence, but she died at two years of age. Of course, it’s also important to note that’s about right for a meat chicken, specially a Freedom Ranger chicken. Vanilla, however, thrived.
Over the years, Vanilla has been a great layer and a great member of the flock. She is now five years old and is one of the top chickens, though she’s very chill. She’s curious about me, will run for treats, but in her older age, she has developed struggles with her hips and with vent gleet (maybe). I keep trying to treat it, so I am not sure. But I just give her a bath fairly regularly (she will also stand in the rain to give herself a bath on her own), and she lives a happy life.
Today, however, I am worried. I just can’t imagine that she will make it more than a few months more. Still, today, after her spa day, which consisted of a warm bath, a good dry, lots of hugs because she’s so chill and lets me, and lots of the best treats, she perked up. I can see that really good care can extend the life of a chicken, and I can see why house chickens can sometimes live so long. Life is harder with the flock, even though we try to keep a chill flock. Anyway, she did perk up, so we will see. I do think we’re getting close though.
Of course, I remember writing these very words about Mary Jane last fall. Now, there’s a will to live. Mary Jane is six and a half years old now.
Working with our chickens has taught me an important lesson that I try to apply to my life. I can see that feeling a sense of purpose, even if it’s just knowing how to enjoy the day and watch the chipmunks, can help with longevity. As I have been struggling of late feeling without purpose and a little disillusioned about the world, this lesson has helped me. I am just having to learn to be patient as I figure out my purpose. I think I want to work with animals more.
