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When we were in SF, one of the stipulations for moving to Kentucky was that we would get a pig…pretty much because it sounded awesome.  We talked about our pig a lot and even gave it a name (Bikini). Unfortunately, things didn’t pan out the way we anticipated and because we are renting and have no plans to move, Bikini is now, for all intents and purposes, out of the picture.

Last spring Paul got really amped about an alternative:

And though it took a while to come to fruition, over the holiday break Paul decided to use his brother’s master architecture skills and build a coop.  He’s convinced we can train the dog not to chase or eat the chickens.

So here it is: the Chicken Coop.

We used Spike’s old dog house (which he went inside exactly once) as a separated area inside for them to have their nests for laying.   Complete with easy-access hatch to remove the eggs.

To be completely honest, Paul’s outfit aside, I was really impressed.  It’s like a chicken mansion.  I’m not sure the chickens will understand what they’re supposed to do where, but Paul did the research and is pretty confident.  So I guess we’ll find out.

Next up: the chickens.  Probably in the spring.

Kentucky State Fair

Chickens.  Cows.  Earless goats.   900 lb pumpkins.  Overalls.  Rooster crowing contests.  Jug bands.  Timber Tina and her female “lumberjill” axe-throwers.  Duck-hearding.  Donutburgers.  Exposed midriffs.  Dog-sized rabbits.  Quilts.  Pies.  Cloggers.  Toothlessness.  Pipe smoking contests.  Poultry named Tyrone.

You can find it all at the Kentucky State Fair (a picture’s worth a thousand words.)