Who would have thought, after I read the story in the June magazine about the increasing popularity of do-it-yourself chickens, that the subject would be following me all summer? It came up when I traveled to a couple of wine competitions, when I visited friends, and when I did my weekly drinking (and believe me, those fellows do not seem like the chicken raising kind). One guy even told me about his cousin in Phoenix; an air conditioned coop. Even Dallas’ Only Daily Newspaper got in on the act. (Gee, where do you think they got the idea for the story?)

Frankly, I don’t understand any of this. Yes, I appreciate fresh eggs, and have tasted the difference. But an air conditioned chicken coop? By the time you figure in all the costs, those are the most expensive eggs in the world.

And let’s be honest about it. Chickens are dirty and not all that bright, hardly the ideal pets. When I lived in Louisiana, a friend’s neighbor kept chickens. The guy next door had a big dog. The inevitable happened, and one day I saw the dog dine on lots of raw chicken. What did the chickens do? Not much – squawked a bit, but pretty much sat there and let the dog feast on them. I can still see the dog running around the yard, feathers in his mouth.

What am I missing here?