Life on the Farm Isn't Always Peaches and Cream

My kids have learned some hard life lessons through the natural progression of things on our little farm up here on the side of South Mountain.

Through hurricanes and earthquakes to damaging snowstorms, they’ve learned about preparedness. From raising farm animals and having family pets, they’ve learned about responsibility and loss.

We’ve always kept a few chickens around. After all, what’s a farm without chickens? And the fresh eggs happen to be fantastic!

As our boys, ages 9 and 4, have grown up they’ve seen a few of our farm animals reach the ends of their lives. But last month brought a loss that was a touch sadder than some of the others.

One of our hens, the one I like to call “Mrs. Broody,” has proven quite capable of laying eggs and hatching chicks with ease. This isn’t a very common occurrence believe it or not. Most hens will lay eggs, but not many choose to sit on them long enough for them to hatch, thus, the invention of the incubator.

Over the summer, Mrs. Broody hatched her first chick. We were so proud of her, and very excited to help it along its way to maturity. From what we read, leaving a young peep in the coop with other hens and roosters could mean certain demise.

So we took young “Summer Loudy Peck Bob” (the boys combined their name suggestions into one VERY long name) into our mudroom and set up a safe haven – an aquarium tank with food, water and a heat lamp. We tended to "Summer" for several months until we believed she could survive in the coop with the others.

Much to our surprise, a second chick appeared a couple of months later! My youngest son named it “Holtzy.” We decided to allow Mrs. Broody to keep her new chick rather than bringing it inside as we had done with Summer.

It was fascinating and heart-warming to watch Mrs. Broody and Summer tend to this little peep. They protected it, kept it warm, and even got playful with it. We built a small area within the coop where the family of three could stay safe from the other bigger hens and rooster. We left the rest up to her.

But last week we decided to let Holtzy out to enjoy the chicken yard. It was warm, the sun was shining, and Holtzy was excited to have some fresh air and room to spread his wings. He was so cute as he hopped around, pecked the dark earth and ran to his mom whenever he became startled by something.

Later in the day, my older son went out to round up the chickens so they’d be safe in the coop as night settled in. He returned with a sad look, “Holtzy is dead,” he said. “He fell in the water bucket and couldn’t get out.”

My heart sank … and not so much because the chick had died, but more so because Addison had found him first. He had spent the last two months caring for this little chick, always making sure it was fed and had water. I expected a more emotional response from both of the boys, but to my surprise they handled it very well.

“That’s just life on the farm, mom,” Addison told me.

And yes, I suppose it is. I only hope he can maintain this mature perspective as he encounters future losses. Naturally, he felt sadness. But, I was so proud of him for keeping it together and having an understanding of the way things are.

It’s nice to know that the life we’ve chosen has allowed us to teach these small life lessons without even trying. I have a feeling it won't be quite as easy when our favorite pooch's time is up. Visions of "Marley and Me" come to mind.

But, hey, that's life on the farm. I'm sure we'll get through that too.