Loving husband really loves me. I know this not because he brings me flowers and gives me expensive jewelry, but because he's willing to invest a sizeable chunk of his leisure time in building a house for a bunch of birds about whom he really couldn't care less.
Ok, I guess he could care a little less. I mean, he appreciates fresh eggs. But if our chickens dropped off the face of the earth tomorrow he'd be sad for, say, ten minutes and then he'd be over it.
Even though he's not really a "chicken guy," he built me a chicken ark. Now that's true love.
It has nest boxes and an egg door.
The bottom opens so that we can let the chicks out into the yard if we so desire. Or not.
It has a side door for cleaning.
The chicks are no longer in the dog crate in the basement, which was fine when they were cute and fluffy. But not so much now that they look like real birds. I'll bet they're complaining about the cold right now.
"Um, Mom? When do we get to come back inside?"
(Chicken coop plans here.)