Last summer, egg production was way down.  Soon after our 3 beautiful Hamburg chickens arrived, we went from 1 or 2 eggs a day to maybe 1 egg a day to sometimes no eggs.  Then a whole week went by without a single egg.  It soon became clear that something was not right.  They looked okay, at least at first.  Friendly, healthy, happy.  The dappled sun shone down through the leaves of the oak tree under which their coop was situated, and flattered their beautiful black and white feathers.  Every morning they looked forward to the delivery of their breakfast, and they chirped eagerly as I crossed the lawn to the coop.  But there were no eggs. 

I checked the inventory:  fresh water, laying mash, oyster shell, plenty of leftover fresh produce.  What was missing?  The girls’ feathers were starting to fall out.  And their bright red combs were starting to fade.  They were starting to look a little drawn.  Now what?

Whereas I usually take to the books for answers, my husband takes to the road.  Sure enough, in short order he had made a new friend, an elderly gentleman who had spent decades raising racing pigeons in, of all places, the same town we live in!  His flock had once numbered upwards of 300 birds, and he had had ducks and chickens as well.  He knew his birds, and he was pleased to help.  He emphasized that he would have to see the coop. 

The following Sunday the birdman and his young assistant pulled up in a small truck.  The assistant hopped out, leaving the knowledgeable birder in the driver’s seat.  From his truck’s location at the bottom of our driveway, the birder could just barely see the corner of the coop peaking out from behind the great oak.  He explained that the weather had kicked his arthritis into high gear, so he would have to stay put while his assistant took a look around.  The assistant returned to report that the coop itself looked great.  Our carpenter’s father-in-law’s old clothes pole made a perfect roosting post.  The nesting boxes were just right.  The water was clean.  So what was the problem?

The birder listened to his assistant, nodding carefully, and then leaned forward.  He raised up his nose, and drew his eyes in toward the center of his face as he focused in the direction of the birds.  He could not actually see them from where he sat.  We waited.  I didn’t breathe for a few seconds.  Then he delivered the verdict :  There’s not enough light.  That perfectly protected little spot under the oak was not so perfect after all. 

We spent a few days assessing our options.  We let the girls out to run around and hoped they would stay near the coop.  They did not.  We admitted the obvious, and drove to Lowe’s.  Twenty-one metal stakes and 150 feet of chicken wire later, we had expanded the girls’ playground into the bright sun.  We flung open the coop door, and they jumped out, eager to explore their newly extended surroundings.

So here is what we learned:  Chickens need sunlight.  This makes me think about the epidemic of Vitamin D deficiency in Cleveland and elsewhere.  I read once that Nordic moms bundle their infants and place their carriages outside while they sleep so their tiny pink faces are exposed to the sun.  I already knew that people and vegetables need sun to grow.  I didn’t realize that birds need sun, too.  Vitamin D isn’t just good for your bones.  It strengthens your immune system.  It makes your insulin work more efficiently.  Make your insulin work better, and you will lower your risk of becoming diabetic.

I belong to a terrific gym, and I really enjoy going there with my family.  But it does not take the place of a walk in the light of the day, even if it isn’t exactly sunny.  Barring blizzards, floods, tornadoes, and temperatures in the single digits, I try to get out for a walk every day.  It makes an enormous difference in my waistline, my outlook, and my overall health. 

I encourage patients to commit to a 5-minute walk every day, outside if at all possible.  Maybe 10 minutes, depending on how sedentary they are — the last thing I want is for folks to start walking 30 minutes a day, get shin splints, and then have to sit still and heal for 3 months.  So I say, “Start slow.”  Maybe in a month or two you can increase to 7 minutes, or 15, depending.  If the weather is not to your liking, walk in hallways, or at the mall, if there is one nearby.  The closest mall to where I live is filled with brisk walkers every morning. 

The key to exercising is to do it at the same time every day.  To illustrate why, allow me to ask you a couple of silly questions:  “Do you brush your teeth?”  Of course you do.  “What time?”  “In the morning,” or “Morning and night.”  So now we’ve established that you brush your teeth every day at the same time. 

What if I were to tell you that the research now shows that you get the same benefit if you brush your teeth just 3 times a week (not true, but stick with me…)?  But here’s the rub — it has to be on Tuesdays at 10 am, Thursdays at 7:30 pm, and Saturdays at 4 pm.  We would never brush our teeth!  But that’s how we expect ourselves to exercise, and then we get frustrated with ourselves when we don’t.  So the key is to exercise at the same time every day, seven days a week.  Then you don’t have to think about it.  You just do it. 

Next scoop:  Golden Buffs arrive to share the coop, grow up, and start laying eggs.