Growth and prosperity at Klucker Farms

Growing pains are a part of life. The philosophy of becoming bigger and better has become intertwined into the American dream of society and chicken farming is no different.

Six years ago, Klucker Farms started out with 25 baby chicks. After my first adventure, I decided I wanted to expand my coop to accommodate more chickens. My dad and I added an addition to hold up to 45 chickens. I proceeded to raise 35 and then 44 lovely girls. I always hoped to get as big as my grandmother's poultry flock, which included around 70 to 75 laying hens. I wanted my grandmother's poultry legacy to live on and I think I'm well on my way to achieving that dream.

Since most of my supplies are located in the garage, I wanted a chicken coop that had a separate storage area. This way, I would not be carrying buckets of feed in the rain or snow. I would have all my supplies readily available. This is 2015 for heaven's sake. I have been chicken farming like Laura Ingalls for far too long.

Plus, I would like my garage back. My garage is overrun with feeders, waterers, medicine, light bulbs, heat lamps, metal garbage cans with feed, containers with oyster shell and grit. You name it – my garage has held it. Oh, and I almost forgot, bales of bedding. My poor garage has even been turned into a chicken infirmary for the injured and sick. The only thing missing is my doctor's shingle.

My current chicken house is 12 by 16 feet. The new and improved coop will be 12 by 24 feet. It will have better doors and windows, which will be air tight. I will no longer have snow coming in under the front door or wind whistling through the windows. I also decided to wrap the outside of the coop with Tyvek. My contractor suggested this idea. This way, less heat would escape in the winter.

The coop's walls and ceiling also will be insulated. To top the building off, it will have electricity trenched under ground. I won't have a drop cord connected from my chicken coop to my house anymore, which has always made me nervous. With heat lamps running continually in the winter, I've always been afraid of a fire. I love my chickens too much to see them fried and extra crispy.

This chicken house will be like none other. It will be the Taj Mahal of chicken houses – all they need is satellite TV. Every chicken in the United States will want to be a Klucker Farms girl.

I have often joked about installing air conditioning and digging a storm shelter right next to the coop in case a tornado decides to come my way. My friends and family think I'm nuts, but to any chicken farmer this would make sense – especially a storm shelter. You have to admit, it's a pretty cool idea. There is absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for these girls. I love them. Since I really don't want to see my chickens picked up and moved to the next county, you can bet your booty I will be running back and forth from my coop to the my basement trying to save every last hen.

I have decided to put vinyl siding on the outside topped off with a metal roof. I even have signs that will be hung on the outside of the building along with a rooster weather vane on the roof. My dad even found some deer antlers that we're going to mount above the one door.

My old chicken house will be turned into a garden shed and an infirmary when needed. I feel a little guilty about my old coop since it was such a labor of love for my dad and I. This old building will always have a special place in my heart.

As I write this blog, I will keep you abreast of all of the growing pains. Long live chickens and long live growth and prosperity at Klucker Farms.

Remembering Cordy

Life has a way of bringing great joy and great sadness. The two greatest sorrows of my life came with the death of my beloved grandmother more than 25 years ago and the death of my 15-year-old dog last spring.

I first met Cordy when she was 8-weeks old in a “Gone With the Wind” style home outside of Morrison, Ill. I can still remember walking up the steps onto the porch passing by huge pillars that supported a massive roof. I could almost hear Scarlett O'Hara talking to Ashley Wilkes. As I passed through the door, I could hear puppies playing in a nearby room. And sure enough, when I turned a corner, there they were – the cutest sheltie puppies I had ever seen.

I have always been partial to collies since I grew up with one. Since I was an only child, Kelly became my best friend. She followed me everywhere. I even got into some major trouble for crawling inside her doghouse with her in it. I just wanted to be with her like she wanted to be with me. Kelly died when I was 9. I still remember the day like it was yesterday. My grandfather buried her at his farm alongside his old dog, Mitsy.

I couldn't help but fall in love with these puppies. I missed having a dog. My last dog, Brittany, died during my senior year in college and I missed having a companion since moving back home. I also knew that someday I would be living on my own and I didn't want to be completely alone – I wanted a dog to share my life with. Even though I left that night without taking Cordy, I knew in my heart I would be back.

After discussing the matter over with my parents, I called the couple back the next day to see if my Cordy was still there, and to my relief, she was. However, when I picked up my small bundle, I felt very sad for Cordy's mother who had to stand by and watch her babies leave one by one. I can still see her – 16 years later. I felt so guilty as this little furry ball whimpered and cried for her mother all the way home. I even wanted my dad to turn around and take her back to her mother.

Cordy adjusted, but it took time. She cried a lot at night and my mother would get up in the middle of the night and comfort her so my dad and I could get some rest for our jobs the next day. Cordy would even snuggle between her slippers and fall asleep.

Cordy was definitely my dog. We lived for each other. When I left home, we formed a bond that only death could break. Cordy was my best friend, confidant and protector. I felt safer knowing she was there. We went on long walks, runs and, of course, car rides with the window down and the wind blowing through our hair. We were like Thelma and Louise except much tamer and hairier. On occasion, I took her into work with me on the weekends. I didn't have the heart to leave her at home. So, I carried her very carefully up a flight of stairs into a spacious newsroom.

Like anyone, Cordy faced her fair share of challenges. She had thyroid problems, her anal glands removed and both knees replaced. I even did physical therapy with her when she was in a cast. I moved her little foot up and down, up and down. She never flinched – never complained. She was the bravest soul, besides my grandmother, that I have ever known. As the years passed, she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and finally renal failure, which took her life.

Cordy's vet, Dr. Smith, told me that Cordy was lucky to have me. I always thought of it the other way around. How lucky I was to have Cordy – someone who loved me for who I was and who I could be. She said a lot of people would have just given up on Cordy, but that just wasn't me. Why would I ever give up on Cordy? Cordy never gave up on me.

Cordy's battle with renal failure lasted about a year and last spring, after becoming violently ill, I decided to put my dear friend at rest. It was the hardest decision I have ever had to make. But I knew I had to have the strength to let her go just her mother did 15 years ago.

How do you say goodbye to someone who has shared such a significant portion of your life? I knew Cordy longer than I knew my grandparents. How could I ever say goodbye?

Cordy's veterinarian was gracious and came to my house that Saturday morning. And as it should be, my parents and I were there like we were in the very beginning. I held Cordy in my arms as she left this world and I said part of the 23^rd Psalm after she died. After she died, a brief shower fell from the sky and blanketed the ground. I can only describe that as one thing – Heaven's tears. And, then after that brief sprinkle, a rainbow appeared. God couldn't have given me a better sign that Cordy had ascended into Heaven.

So, on this day, a year after my Cordy left me, I remember her beginning and her end, our laughter and our tears. To my Cordy: “Our love will never die – nor my memories of you. Until we see each other again.”