You can consider this post to be a cautionary tale, told in advance of things getting really, truly ugly. I hope you’ll read it carefully, take it seriously, and take it as the motivational tool it is intended to be.
When I was a teenager I had a small flock of chickens. After a year or so I gave them up and turned the birds over to my brother, who expanded the flock considerably. Eventually he grew quite a little business out of the endeavor. By the time he graduated high school he had something like 300 white leghorns out in the barn.
It would seem simple enough to raise chickens. There’s not much to it, really. Throw a little feed in the yard, provide clean water, and collect the eggs on a daily basis. Look at that — one, two, three and you’re a farmer. Then again, there’s the cannibalism to think about. Oh yes, I said cannibalism.
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