People are looking for information on building chicken coops and want to know how much floor space is needed for a coop and run. I know, because, many visitors to this site and to my garden blog site click on “A Chicken Coop for a Garden” and “A Space for Chickens“. I think that building your coop is one of the most important steps you’ll take to ensure success in backyard chicken keeping and a little research before beginning the project, is in order. Due to space limitations, some folks are looking for a coop that will fit into their yard and garden, but still fulfill minimum requirements for healthy, active hens.

Ladder provides vertical space for hens.

Most books and articles advise you to have at least 3-4 square feet of floor space for each hen and 10 square feet per hen if restricted to an indoor environment. Our little henhouse is a compact 20 square feet. It was designed for four hens and we have six. Opps, I got carried away and couldn’t stop bringing home those cute little fluffballs. There are two four-foot roosts, two nest boxes which hens can enter from the inside, and a bar for them to hop up on to get into the next boxes. This tiny henhouse would not have adequate space if the hens had to be closed in during the day.

The outside run measures 8′ x 16′. We put in a ladder for vertical space, which the hens love. The hen spend the day outdoors. In this mild coastal climate, they need only be locked in from dusk to dawn, and only to be secure from predators. As I walk down the path at daybreak, I can hear their low agitated clucking, scolding me, for sleeping beyond first light. They scurry past my legs as soon as I lift the hatch. They are like children being released for recess.  The run is partially covered, providing shelter on rainy days.

There are many ideas and recommendations for building coops on the Backyard Chickens website. For years, people have been posting designs and pictures of their chicken coops to share with others. On their forum, you can post individual questions about coop design and you will have a group of chicken enthusiasts to give you advice.

Our youngest granddaughter visited with the hens for the first time this weekend. At 20 months, she’d had no previous experience with chickens and showed no fear. She fed them, walked among them, examined the feeder and waterer, collected the eggs from the egg boxes (only breaking one), and in general, seemed to accept the hens as just another curiosity in a world of curiosities.

Hens and children are curious creatures.

Most of our little granddaughters have met the hens at some time in their lives. None have feared them, but some are more comfortable with them than others. The hens have their own unique reactions to these miniature humans. As we know, children move more quickly than adults. The hens are on their toes when children are near, ready to leap out of reach of the toddlers at any unexpected movement.

The hens circle around the tiny humans, sure that a bit of corn or lettuce will eventually be offered. Some of the hens are shyer with newcomers, than others. Daisy and Rosie will allow themselves to be offered to the youngsters for petting. We can easily pick up these two and let them be petted. They appear to relax as they are stroked, waiting patiently for the ordeal to be over.

We often describe Sweetpea as “Auntie Sweetpea”. She worries aloud about these strangers who’ve invaded her space. Tulip is standoffish, and the two Wyandottes are sly creatures, giving the little humans wide birth.

We built the nest boxes so that we can collect the eggs from outside of the henhouse by lifting the hinged lid and reaching down into the nests. Although this little child is too young to grasp the concept that hens lay eggs, she still expressed delight in finding a hidden egg waiting for her. Who doesn’t?

If you would like to visit with the hens see our home page.

Sweetpea and Daisy at 3 months.

We’ve had our six hens since they were three days old. Like our own children, their personalities have pretty much stayed the same since they were born, or rather, hatched. Daisy, the Buff Orpington, remains sweet and tame. She is the first to jump onto our laps when we sit with the hens in the evenings. Sweetpea, a Barred Rock, is the snuggler. Sweetpea is going through her first moult and is a little “touchy”. Her cluck, has become a bit of a whine which I hope is a result of her moulting and only temporary. I’m looking forward to her feathers returning and  her snuggly personality revealing itself again.

Daisy and Sweetpea have always been close. They lay together in the sunshine. They dust bathe in the same hole. They are both gentle birds, rarely pecking the other girls and never one another. While Sweetpeas moults,  her personality has become somewhat introverted. Daisy is as confused as I am over the recent change in our dear Sweetpea.

Hens are big birds.

I’ve been working on setting up this website on chickens. I’m not proud of its structure. I’ve never been someone who can do something half-way. I’m all in or not at all. I’ve struggled a month to make the site look right. Imagine my husband (who swore he wouldn’t have anything to do with creating a website) and I, squinting over a code, holding our breath and fooling around with it! When we go back to the website and nothing has changed! What frustration!

Yesterday, I was out in the garden readying for a rainy weekend (rare in these parts), and working off website frustration. The hens were in their pen going about their business while I was going about mine, digging nearby. I listened to their “hen talk”. The contented babel that they carry on as they scratch and bathe in the dust sounded like friends over a cup of coffee. There is a throaty Rrrrrrrr……. that one of them makes when a hawk flies overhead. Even a blue jay or crow will trigger that warning sound.

And then, there is always an occasional unpleasant squawk when one of the crankier hens pecks another because she doesn’t want the other to be “in her space”. Sweetpea was getting her share of pecks yesterday as I gardened nearby. I could just hear them saying, “Gads, you’re ugly. Get away!” Sweetpea is moulting, has no tail feathers and her comb and wattles are a pale pink. Someone once described moulting as “hen menopause”. Poor thing! As least she will get over it!