Chicken Coop Moving Day!

So, you’ve read about our chicks, their coop, and the upcycled run. Now it’s time for the real adventure: chicken moving day.

Looking back, I can laugh. At the time? I was nervous, stressed, hot, cold, muddy, anxious, and eventually just tired.

From Cute Chicks to a Full-Grown Logistics Problem

When I bought those fluffy little chicks back in late February, the store handed me a box, I set it on my car seat, and off I went. Easy.

I did not think about how I would eventually move twelve nearly full-grown chickens six miles down a bumpy country road to our property. Not one of my better “thinking-ahead” moments.

I had heard people use dog crates or giant moving boxes. So once I realized I had to get them from Point A to Point B, I started researching like a madwoman. When I finally brought it up to my husband, his suggestion?

“Just keep them in the coop..”

Uh, what?

I quickly warned him: If a chicken breaks a neck, a leg, or dies in transit, YOU are handling the aftermath.

Coop on the Move

My husband—bless him—is amazing at turning my “wild hair” ideas into real things. Moving a full coop full of chickens? No big deal for him. Using his trailer and winch, he slid the coop out of our garage and onto the trailer like he’d done it a hundred times. A couple of ratchet straps later, and we were rolling down the road.

I did a nervous head count before we left. Twelve chickens. I did another head count when we arrived. Still twelve. No chicken casualties. Victory!

Getting to the property was the easy part. Now we had to get a fully loaded coop off the trailer, down a steep wooded hill, through a mud pit, and into the garden—all without flipping it or losing a chicken.

With the help of the tractor, my husband eased the coop down the hill. I followed on foot, calling out about low branches, rocks, and anything else that might turn this move into a coop disaster.

And then we hit the bottom of the hill.

The Mud. So Much Mud.

The bottom was a muddy, slick, squishy mess—and we had no choice but to push through. At one point, I may or may not have acted like a human tripod to keep the coop from tipping too far as my husband navigated the tractor through the muck. Let’s just say my boots were not up for the job.

Eventually, we got the coop into the garden and set it where I thought I wanted it. But once it was in place…“It looks wrong”.

The windows were facing the wrong direction. I had planned for them to face south for winter sun and warmth—but the coop just looked awkward in the space. So yes, after all that effort, I asked my (very patient) husband to spin it around.

He gave me the look. You know the one. But he did it anyway. Mud, sweat, eye rolls and all.

🐓 Final Placement & Next Steps

Once it was set, it finally felt right. The chickens had arrived safely, the coop was in place, and despite the mud, the stress, and the inevitable debate about coop orientation—we did it.

Next up? Getting the run attached so they could roam safely and stretch their legs.