If
you’ve never heard of chicken
math,
let me explain.
It’s a highly contagious condition that strikes without warning, usually in the poultry aisle of your local feed store. It begins with pure intentions—you just stopped in for dog food—and ends with you Googling “best backyard goat breeds” at 1 a.m., your debit card still warm from the hardware store.
It starts simple. You spot the bins of fuzzy chicks under their glowing red lamps. They’re peeping softly, looking at you with their tiny dinosaur eyes, and you think, “Well. . . maybe just one.”
The salesperson, who
has seen this tragedy play out countless times, leans in and
whispers:
“One chick will get lonely. Better get a few so they
can keep each other company.”
You nod sagely, like you’re making a calculated, responsible decision.
Tally: 5 chicks @ $4.50 each = $22.50 (cheaper than therapy. . . for now)
Then your daughter—who was “just along for the ride”—points out three more that are “the cutest thing I've ever seen in my whole life.” You sigh and agree.
Tally: 8 chicks = $36.00 (because we can’t break her little heart. . . or resist those fluff butts)
But eight doesn't feel like a good number. Ten is good. Ten is civilized. Ten says, “I’m in control here.”
Tally: 10 chicks = $45.00 (famous last words)
While still at the feed store register, you grab:
50 lb bag of chick starter feed: $22.00 (tiny chickens eat tiny food. . . and a shocking amount of it)
Feeder & waterer set: $18.00 (because apparently they can’t just use a salad bowl)
Heat lamp with bulb: $25.00 (aka the Chicken Spa Deluxe Package)
Pine shavings: $7.00 (chicken toilet paper)
Cashier: “$117.00.” (not including the dog food, which you almost forgot to buy)
You: “That’s not so bad.”
Future you: Filing for bankruptcy in the poultry aisle.
You have no idea where you're going to put them. But on the way home, you remember the old shed in the yard. With a little work, it could be a coop. You picture a Pinterest-worthy space where hens roam gracefully and you gather eggs in a wicker basket like a wholesome farm goddess.
Then you hit the hardware store for:
Lumber, hinges, screws: $140.00 (building Fort Knox for birds)
Hardware cloth: $60.00 (ordinary chicken wire is basically predator gift wrap)
Drill bits you “might as well” get: $15.00 (because tools are investments, right?)
Running Cost: $332.00
You set up your brooder in a old Rubbermaid tote on the dining table. The chicks are cheeping, the kids are glued to the action, and you’re feeling accomplished. Then you Google “how to care for baby chicks” and realize you forgot:
Chick grit: $6.00 (gravel. . . yes, we are buying gravel)
Electrolytes & probiotics: $12.00 (chicken Gatorade)
Brooder thermometer: $9.00 (because “feels warm enough” isn’t science)
Poultry netting: $35.00 (for keeping chickens in, not predators out)
Bigger feeder & waterer: $28.00 (because your tiny chickens will become feathered linebackers in two weeks)
Running Cost: $422.00
-------------------------------------------------------------
Weeks 1 and 2
Everyone is in love with the chicks. You’ve started naming them after Golden Girls and country singers.
The smell?
Manageable, if you keep the windows open.
The fine white
dust coating your coffee cup, laptop, and houseplants? Concerning.
Week 3
The chicks are bigger. Louder. And they’ve discovered altitude.
One perches on the tote edge. Another sprints across the table like it’s late for a job interview.
Meanwhile, coop repairs continue:
More hardware cloth: $40.00 (because raccoons have tiny hands and big dreams)
Predator-proof latch set: $18.00 (because raccoons also know how to use doorknobs, apparently)
Running Cost: $480.00
Week 4
The coop is technically ready. You move them outside, and not a day too soon. Victory! Fresh air! No more chicken dust in your coffee, for now!
Two days later, you go to the feed store for bedding and come home with:
6 more chicks @ $5 each: $30.00 (different breed. . . totally justified)
Second heat lamp: $25.00 (you’re running a chain of chicken spas now)
Another feeder & waterer: $18.00 (because chicken etiquette says sharing is impossible)
Running Cost: $553.00
The Gateway Effect
This is how it
begins.
First chickens, then “maybe a couple of goats.” You
start researching goat-proof fencing, which doesn’t exist, but it’s
cute that you think it might. They do, however, have “no climb”
fencing.
Pinterest boards now include:
Chicken Coop Ideas
Goat Barn Plans
Alpaca Sweater Patterns (don’t ask why)
Then
one morning, you open the nest box and see it: your first egg.
Perfect. Warm. Your precious.
You carry it inside like it’s the
Hope Diamond, set it gently on the counter, and do the math:
That first egg cost you $553.00! But so worth it.
Epilogue
One
year later:
Feed for a year: $320.00 (because chickens eat like they’re training for the Olympics)
Bedding for a year: $84.00 (coop janitorial supplies)
Egg cartons: $25.00 (so you can look like you’re “making money” when you give away eggs)
Replacement heat lamp bulb: $8.00 (because apparently they explode for fun)
Emergency chicken items: $60.00 (a mix of vet bills, treatment for mites, and buyer’s remorse)
Final Running Cost: $1,050.00
And here’s where future costs start to sneak in:
Bigger coop: $1,500.00 (they need more room)
Electric poultry netting: $350.00 (predator protection)
Chicken swing: $45.00 (happy hens lay more eggs, and you wanted to see a chicken on a swing)
Heated waterers: $120.00 (I’m so not breaking ice at 6 a.m.)
Goat starter kit (2 goats, fencing, shelter): $1,800.00 (it’s free lawn care!)
Goat vet bills: $250.00 (preventative care)
New barn: $8,000.00 (property value improvement!)
Farm truck upgrade: $15,000.00 (we need it for hay)
Therapy after goat purchase: $600.00 (cheaper than divorce)
Second freezer for “extra roosters”: $350.00 (we’ll eat well all winter)
Projected Grand Total: $ 29,065.00 and counting.
At 1:07 a.m., you’re at the kitchen table, sipping coffee from your “#1 Egg Dealer” mug, Googling “DIY barn expansion,” and wondering how it all started.
Dog food. It all started with dog food.
And that, dear friends, explains “chicken math.”
