The Chicken House is No Place to Linger – Fleas!

The year was 1952. We raised chickens for food and picked eggs every day from the chicken house. There was a roosting place in one part and nesting boxes in another. As I entered the chicken house each day to pick eggs I can say that’s one time I did a chore in a big hurry. You see this place was always hopping with fleas.

They were so thick that if you stood still for even a few seconds you could see them crawling and jumping around on your bare feet. The poor chickens usually had the tops of their heads rubbed raw and red looking from scratching themselves. Their heads sometimes looked like pepper had been sprinkled on them.

When the flea infestation got really bad or on regular intervals, we had a chicken house cleaning day. Believe me, it was no fun. First, we had to rake the dry chicken poop together, place it in a wheelbarrow and haul it in the garden for fertilizer. Then we’d boil water in our outdoor kettle, take buckets of boiling water, and slosh it on the ground and inside walls of the chicken house. That was one way to get rid of the fleas – at least until the next batch came along.

Being exposed to all these fleas, imagine how many found their way onto my body. After this chore was done, I would go to the cow pen, strip off all my flea-infested clothes, jump into the six-foot cattle water trough, and just lay there for a spell. The loose fleas would float to the top of the water; however, when I got out, I still had fleas on me that had attached themselves and were sucking blood. Then Mom had to give me the once-over and pick them off. After donning fresh clothes, I went on with the rest of my chores for the day. Never a dull moment.

We also painted the inside walls of the chicken house with a black liquid I only know as carboleum. It was similar to creosote and was supposed to kill or repel fleas. Sometimes I think it only made everything black and one couldn’t see the fleas sitting on a dark background but they were still there.