This sounds like a children’s bedtime story. It could very well be a children’s bedtime story. It is about four little chickens and their new big chicken bed. I imagine the book version to be filled with beautiful illustrations of the chickens and the people who chased them around. You see, we made a tiny little mistake with the chickens. Turns out, when introducing chickens to a new coop, you have to lock them in it with some food and water for a couple of days. Then you introduce them to the new run. We didn’t do that. We did the opposite of that. We let them into their new enclosure to peck and scratch around. When evening came, we just expected that the chickens would walk up the ramp to roost inside the new coop. Instead, what we saw when we looked out into the backyard was four chickens frantically pacing back and forth in front of the enclosure door.

Michael and I spent half an hour chasing chickens and putting them into the new coop. Once we had them all locked up inside the coop, we stood there listening to them cry. Michael stood there and then said “Maybe we should just put them back inside the old coop.” I almost agreed with him, but then I said “I think this is a crying baby situation.” He replied “I hate the crying baby situation.” I patted him on the shoulder and nodded my head in agreement “Crying babies are the worst.” The chickens quickly calmed down and settled in for the night and the next morning, I went and let them out of the coop. Throughout the day I would see a chicken hop up onto the ramp and go inside. They were laying their eggs in the nesting box. It seemed that maybe they had figured it out and were getting comfortable with their new coop. But that evening, Michael and I were once again chasing chickens and shoving them into their coop. I can only image that parents go through something similar when introducing their toddlers to a big kid bed.

We have to put the chickens to bed. Once we get them inside the coop Michael reads them a bedtime story and I turn on their nightlight. Then we say “Goodnight Chickens!” Not really. Actually we shake our heads and grumble about how stupid chickens seem to be. The third night of this routine, I drunkenly chased a chicken around the enclosure when Margarette just walked right up the ramp and into the coop all on her own. Foghorn followed her. We still had to catch Matilda and Dorothy, but two of the chickens seem to have figured it out. The next night, all but one chicken had already gone inside the coop. Foghorn was still wandering around outside. Michael managed to talk her into going into the coop on her own without having to chase her down. The night after this, he went out to check on them and all of the chickens were inside the coop, ready for bed. The chickens are now, finally, completely putting themselves to bed.

Without chasing or coaxing or bedtime stories.