Warning: if you have recently eaten or
have a weak stomach, stop reading now.
I have always thought of myself as having
a tough stomach. I grew up dissecting dead animals we had found in the woods, I
have assisted in gynecological surgical procedures and I ate my way through the
back alley streets of Peru without any problems. However, nothing could have
prepared me for the stench of cleaning out the chicken coop. New Morning Farm
has quite a few chickens and they represent all of the stages of a chicken’s
lifespan. There are the little baby chicks that still cling to one another when
they go outdoors and even a few featherless ‘things’ that have been in so many
chicken fights it’s amazing they are still alive. All of these chickens live in
separate pens in the chicken coop and all of these chickens still have active
digestive systems. Every couple of months someone is honored with the task of
scrapping up and shoveling out the excrements. We were the lucky couple this
time! I rarely admit defeat, but this coop defeated me.
I blazed into the coop, pitchfork in
hand, mask securely fastened to my face and ready to clean up the crap. Ten
minutes in, I was doing all I could to stop myself from gagging every time I
lifted up a new pile of waste. Suddenly, my gallant knight in rubber boots
strode in to relieve me of my task and finish up the coop himself. All I had to
do was keep shoveling the manure into the wheelbarrow and bring it to the
tractor. An hour later, Chase emerged from the coop without any signs of
disgust. What a brave boyfriend I have.
I took a final peak inside the coop and,
surprisingly, I could see the bare wood floor. Chase’s ability to fight through
the smell resulted in a beautifully clean home for the chickens. We layered in
fresh straw and let the chickens back into their shiny new home. I am still
deciding whether the deliciousness of fresh eggs is worth the disgust, but I am
leaning towards yes – especially with Chase in the picture.
