The New Hen House
It had several metal nests for each hen, a big fan that cooled the henhouse, water throughs with fresh water that ran into them, and several roosts to stand on. The walls were isolated with corncobs. Most of our chickens laid brown eggs; eventually, we had all leghorn chickens that laid white eggs. I used to help gather up the eggs. We would candle test each egg. We would clean the eggs with an egg washer and put them in cardboard boxes for the egg man to pick up in the morning. After the chicken droppings were removed, the hen house would be hosed down from one end to the other. The nest would get new straw put in them. Sulfa candles were lit to kill insects, mites, and rodents while the chickens were outdoors. After it aired out, the chickens had a lovely clean hen house to roost in.
The Old Hen House
Gathering eggs used to be fun in the new hen house, but the old hen house was full of rats at night and in the early morning hours. My father had a rat run up his arm one morning while he was gathering eggs which was a little too much excitement to start a new day. My father and our dog would go in the hen house together, and one morning, my father reached under an opossum to gather eggs, and our dog jumped into action and killed the opossum. The corn for the chickens was kept in an old wooden wagon in the middle of the chicken house, and I guess that attracted the rats along with the corn cob insolation.
Playing In And Outside Of The Old Unsused Hen House
I used to love to play in the old henhouse. I had a few toys in it, and my cats would come in and spend time with me. Outdoors I pretended the old chicken roosts were forts. Our family dog and I protected the fort with toy guns, bows, and arrows. I enjoyed many childhood days walking around the old henhouse looking for old buried bottles, tools, rocks, and anything else that fit my fancy. I had an old BB gun that I used to shoot at the door of the old henhouse. The BB gun had no power and did no damage. It was my first gun, and my parents wanted me to be safe, which I was.
Before The Hen House Was Torn Down
The building developed a hole in the roof where a Mother raccoon gave birth to her five babies. My father saw her running back and forth from the old henhouse. One day he saw her jump way back down under the roof. He investigated and caught all five babies in a fish net. They were adorable. My father placed them on the ground by the henhouse, and Momma Raccoon and her babies ran into the field. My father took a chainsaw, cut the building into three sections, and burned the remnants left of the old henhouse. I have lovely childhood memories of that once-grand old henhouse.
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