This past year I have been raising red legged chukar partridge. You know, just like in the Christmas carol, The Twelve Days of Christmas “…and a partridge in a pear tree.” I started with a box of 35 baby chicks, and almost a year later, just a few survive. This is their story. The story of the Lucky Seven.

 I adopted a German shorthaired pointer, in October of 2012. That is a proper bird dog, for those who do not know of such things, and I got a really good example of the species. He is loyal, obedient, and easy to train. Training this bird dog, had become much more time consuming than I had imagined, but I was in this project for the whole experience. The experience of having a really well trained bird dog. I bought books, I watched videos, and I talked to people with dogs. Lots of people with well trained dogs, and they all said the same thing, “You need birds.”

 Some professional dog trainers use pigeons, and some others use Bobwhite quail, but a few use chukar. Here amid the arid craggy peaks of the southwest, the chukar is the bird of legend and lore, much like the Pheasant is on the Great Plains of the Dakotas or the Columbia River valley of Washington state. It is a hearty bird, which can take considerable abuse, and recover to a healthy state. They acclimate well to life in a coop, and take to food and water as well or better than any game bird in captivity. If you keep them throughout their second spring season, they will even produce eggs. They are difficult to sex, so culling out the males is really a matter of luck, as the method of feeling for the egg gap in the females’ pelvic frame is unreliable until after they are completely mature. They are relatively maintenance free, and as I will explain later, if you build a coop with cleanliness and sanitation in mind, the excrement can easily be collected for addition to a compost pile for use in the garden. They also, and I cannot stress this enough, taste most excellent.

 The decision was made that in order to train my dog in the ways of the Jedi, I would raise chukar. I started by researching the backyard chicken revolution that has been sweeping American suburbs. I looked at some very nice designs for chicken coops, and even found a recipe here and there. Most of the designs included one form of chicken run, or another, which I didn’t need. I also had some space and positioning concerns, which limited the size and orientation of my particular installation. Research upon the needs of chukar during their captivity lifecycle had indicated that I needed one square foot of coop per bird, and that it should be at least 24 inches high on the inside. I also learned that while in the brood phase, or during the first five weeks of life, they need a more confined, and precisely temperature controlled, environment. The tasks were clear, build a brooding box first, and then while they were occupying that space, construct a proper chukar coop.

 I ordered 30 chukar, and received 34. They throw in enough extra for the time of year to fill the box to keep them all warm, and in case one or two are not viable when they arrive, to guarantee customer satisfaction. During warmer months, I might have received only 25, to accommodate enough space to ensure they did not over heat. The box they come in is delivered via the United States Postal Service. They come 2nd day express, and this is how poultry chicks have been obtained by ranchers for over 100 years. The post office calls you when they arrive, and asks you to come pick them up, so the chicks do not have to sit in the hot, or cold delivery vehicle for hours.

 I knew it would be important to get them out of the box as soon as possible, and start the process of warming them up, then getting them to take water. It is critical that this order be followed as opposed to giving them water first, because the water they drink will cause their tiny bodies to cool quite rapidly, high mortality rate will surly ensue. Once they have been warmed in an ambient air temperature of 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and they have taken to the water, then it is time to feed them. The baby chicks consume enough protein laden material during their gestation that they have enough energy to survive for about three days after hatching. That’s about it. The next challenge is getting them to take to the feed. This is best accomplished by mixing in chopped hardboiled egg with their feed, on a wet paper towel. To achieve this ensemble of food, water and living conditions, I constructed a brooding table 24 inches square, with plywood side walls standing perpendicular and extending 24 inches above the table’s surface. I hung a heat lamp at an adjustable height of between 24 and 48 inches above the table’s surface. I also covered the 2 foot cube with galvanized steel hardware cloth. As I removed each chick from its box, I dunked their beak in chick sized watering trough, and then released it into the brood cube, with the lamp warming the space to the appropriate temperature. Once they were all in there, I added a few paper towels with the special egg-feed-water blend. I watched like a doting father for an hour or so, then went on to other projects. I checked on them a few more times that afternoon, and they seemed fine. I observed many of them eating and drinking.

 The next morning, 5 were quite lifeless, if not actually dead. I disposed of them, and monitored the remaining covey closely for the next several hours. By evening 2 more had fallen. The following morning, I was pleased to see that no more fatalities had occurred, and there was a happy sounding chirp-chip filling the brood cube. I believe the mortality rate was to be expected considering their harsh USPS journey, and I was happy to have so many survive. Over the next 5 weeks, I did lose a few more, but never in large groups and not totaling more than 6.

 After the fifth week, it was time to move them to their new home. They had begun to molt, and were starting to peck at one another. Also, as their flight feathers were starting to come in, and their wings growing stronger, they had been attempting to fly, resulting in collision with the steel cloth cube top. To leave them in the brood cube any longer would have been dangerous to the fledgling birds. I had just put the finishing touches on a really nice chukar coop, and I moved them in to their home.

 The chukar coop is 60 inches by 75 inches, has a front wall of 38 inches and a back wall of 24 inches, with rake wall sides, and a sloped roof. I once again used hardware cloth to form the cage enclosure. I built a small roosting shelf in the back corner, and added a plywood panel to place some small access doors in the back wall, thereby making a more private seeming, less windy, roost spot. I upgraded the chick sized water and feed dispensers to adult sized equipment, and added some heat lamps for use during the cold spring nights. By summer, with temperatures of 100 daily, the orientation of the structure in my backyard provided ample shade to keep the birds cool.

 At about 8 weeks of age, two more birds died in what appeared to be an incident of bird on bird violence, but I could not get any of the witnesses to squawk, so the case was closed as unsolvable. After that things were quit, and steady growth and plumage development were noted. By 16 weeks, they were ready for some real live bird dog training sessions. When harvested, the 16-20 week old birds yield approximately .80 lbs, with a neutral flavored poultry taste, and very smooth texture. The birds harvested later, averaged 1 lbs and had the same taste and texture. Birds which were not harvested until nearly a year after hatching, averaged 1.2 lbs, and had excellent taste characteristics. The texture of the one year olds was a bit tough, perhaps because many of them had been abused as training subjects, and placed back in the coop to, well, recuperate, some more than once. Further details of the dog training exploits of the birds, will wait for another essay.

 At present, there are seven adult chukar, living happily in their coop. They have fresh, clean water and high quality organic game bird feed. Warm nesting material and a dog who guards them regularly from predators, such as cats, mice, and even the well-known and extremely treacherous, Mediterranean Gecko lizard. I had not intended to keep them so long, but the dog has mastered the art of training with them without hurting them (much). They have become like goldfish in a bowl, on a larger outdoor scale. I find peace and calm in watching them, as I can see them well from my kitchen window. They have begun to emit their classic “chuck-chuck-chuck” sound in solo and symphonic fashion. Throughout this past hunting season, I kept threatening to bring them on the next trip, especially after an unfruitful hunt. But, still, the lucky seven survive. They live to possibly see tomorrow.