Childhood visits to my grandparent’s farm served to foreshadow raising chickens of my own. Tossing seed corn, herding a mean rooster to the coop, and reaching under a hen to gather a warm egg were highlights. However, when it came to butchering a “worn out layer,” I opted to avoid the macabre scene.

The art and science of poultry hypnosis attracted my attention as a teenager.  My best friend’s barnyard contained a low-slung chicken coop constructed from weathered pine boards and rusty, corrugated metal.  Cliff and I would slide the wooden latch to the door open, crouch down, and enter a secret world of dark shadows, poop-on-straw odor, and the murmur of clucking hens. Most hens were docile and easy to catch. Cooing softly in their ears to assuage their fear, we held their beaks to a line in the dirt. Unless disturbed, most would remain in that frozen pose for up to an hour. Unruly roosters created a challenge. To hypnotize, we laid them on their side and placed a small twig across their neck to reinforce the feeling of being restrained.

Backyard husbandry efforts were set in motion years later when I converted a former playhouse into an enclosed coop for raising domestic Coturnix quail. As the breeder informed, quail eggs have, “Just the right ratio of yolk to white.”

We started with a dozen hens and two cockerel chicks. Two months later, the hens were producing close to one egg per hen per day. Their speckled eggs were mild in flavor and perfect for a seven-egg Sunday morning omelette. Any leftovers were boiled and pickled as a tasty hors d’oeuvre for the holidays.

Quail provided an important lesson in pecking order, a social structure that afforded cockerels and dominate hens preferred roosting locations and access to food. At some point in time, one or more unfortunate subordinate birds invariably ended up with a bloody head and had to be removed from the flock.

Once egg production from these 6-ounce captive quail slowed, I converted construction material from their coop into a wire-screen pen and external nesting boxes for Bantam chickens. Banties are smaller in size than a regular barnyard chickens and consequently require less space to manage. Following a failed effort with adopted “mutt” banties, we opted to raise a pair of pure-bred Buff Cochins. This round-bodied breed commonly showcases a golden-buff color, fluffy plumage, and feathered legs.

Brewster and Henny Penny scratched for bugs in the garden during the day and filed into their coop like trained soldiers when the sun’s shadow settled on our back yard. Brewster’s internal clock was set to sunrise, when he would loudly announce to the neighborhood “It’s time get on with your day.” Three generations of banties, their entertaining antics, and dozens of eggs paralleled our children’s formative years.

At some point in time, two mallard ducklings got tossed into the mix. Oatmeal and Gus grew up to be obedient hens who, in their heyday, produced 10 eggs a week between them. Because they were largely allowed to roam free, every day became an Easter egg hunt. Duck eggs are larger in size than your average “large” chicken egg and have a higher ratio of yolk to albumin; hence, more fat, protein, and cholesterol than a chicken egg.

Occasionally we’d find a “double yolker,” which led to asking friends.  “Ever eat a duck egg?” The question would invariably lead to a squinched up face and a side-to-side shake of their head.  Oatmeal and Gus were later released to fend in the wild after they snuck into the vegetable garden and foraged under an overhead sprinkler, leaving two rows of lettuce and spinach in shreds.

In some urban or civic settings, chickens are considered “small domestic animals. Our local ordinance allows up to five chickens to be kept. While not a requirement for egg-laying, including a rooster in your flock ensures protection for hens, in addition to adding a dimension of behavior to the flock. As a bonus, chicken manure is rich in nutrients like nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium. Once aged, it is likely the best organic fertilizer you can find for a garden.

Raising domestic fowl does not come without responsibility. First, birds require protection from wandering dogs, cats, skunks, weasels, and bobcats. Second, the cost of food and maintenance may not justify the number of eggs you harvest. Like most barnyard animals, you can’t run off for a week and leave them unattended unless you install automatic feeders and watering pans. Mice and rats may also be attracted by leftover food and feces.

Deterrents aside, the antics of backyard poultry are both entertaining and informative. Observing bird behavior provides helpful clues about problem-solving, social interaction, and danger recognition. The tradition of raising chickens in the backyard has been carried forward by our children and grandchildren, albeit the role of chickens as pets sometimes gets in the way of practical matters, such as backyard butchery of old hens or harvesting the neck hackles of a mean rooster for fly tying.

Dennis Dauble is a retired fishery scientist, outdoor writer, presenter and educator who lives in Richland, Washington. He is the author of five award-winning books about fish and fishing. His new book, “A Rustic Cabin,” chronicles 19 years of cabin life in the Umatilla River canyon. His website is DennisDaubleBooks.com.