Yesterday was a Red Letter Day for Farmer Nyel’s chickens.  Or it should have been.  It was their first day in the great-out-of-doors.  However, they were extremely reluctant to leave the coop.  Downright chicken, you might say.
     Heretofore the six girls (or maybe only five girls and one guy) have been indoor chickens.  At first they were in a big cardboard box in our back storage area, kept warm and happy with a heat lamp.  Last week they were moved outdoors to the coop.
     The plan was to give them a day or so to get used to their new quarters before introducing them to the outside world.  By Day Three, most of them had discovered the roost and had seemingly become accustomed to the hay underfoot. Then, of course, it began to rain and Farmer Nyel thought that the precipitation added to the breezy freshness of the outside air would be too much for the girls all at once.  The plan was to take these big new concepts in stages.
     Unfortunately, one rainy day followed another and by the time the skies cleared, the girls had bonded with their coop.  When the boss opened their door bright and early yesterday morning, they cowered in a corner.  No amount of explaining or coaxing did any good.  One-by-one each hen (or otherwise) needed to be physically removed from the coop and place in the run.
     This was not a “free range” opportunity by any means.  They were totally confined to their run which is well-enclosed giving them many opportunities to acclimate to dirt and bugs and grass and all manner of outdoorsy things.  They also had free access to the coop should they want to go perch for a nap or something.
     They were having none of it.  They immediately found the protected areas – under the coop, under the broody box, all the farthest corners.  Finally, hunger and thirst drove them to the middle of the run where food and water awaited, but only for moments at a time.  These girls (mostly, we hope) are living proof of chickens being chicken.
     At dusk, Farmer Nyel went to see if they had figured out how to go back into the coop for the night.  Some, yes; some, no.  But eventually, they all made their way up their little ramp unaided and into their nighttime domicile.  The door was shut and all was well.  Or so we hope.