Clarinda's Reign Of Terror Is Over

If you are a regular reader, you know I have had a hate/hate relationship with my white Californian hens. I raised them from peeps, and they have always been more aggressive, flighty, and unfriendly than the rest of the flock. Since placing them in a confined, fenced-in space for the summer until my groundcover plants are established, the White Mafia have become even more unpleasant, aggressive, and rude. 

Clarinda is the ringleader, who sits and clucks orders from the nesting box. Regina George is her main henchman. Regina has taken to flogging me, jumping at me threateningly, and facing off with me while she positions herself on a roost at eye level. I really hate those chickens. 

For weeks, I have been threatening to rehome them. I tried to pawn them off on Erica, who is worse about building her barnyard family than I am. After farm sitting and experiencing the White Mafia for four days, she turned me down. I have a few other friends I tried to give the flock of hags to, but alas, no takers. Erica said, 'Put them on Facebook. Somebody will take them." I put them on Facebook for $50 for all seven. That is less than ten dollars for young chickens who are producing eggs. Erica assured me it was a good deal. I had no takers, dear reader. I had almost resigned to the fact that I would be stuck with these chickens that hate me as much as I hate them until they die, and let's face it, mean things live a lot longer than nice, pretty things. Sigh. 

Enter my dear friend Marie. Marie has probably the nicest coop I have ever seen. Her husband built in some really cool and useful innovations for watering, cleaning, and feeding. Marie has been out of chickens for a few years, but she recently got back into them. She has poultettes she hatched with Erica, but no hens that are laying. I texted Marie and asked her if she wanted my White Mafia, and she agreed! I gave her all six; there are only six, not seven. They won't stand still long enough to count. Sigh. 

On Sunday, Marie came over for a porch visit and to pick up my horrible hens. I told her they are mean, but they are good layers and good mothers. I mean, not that anyone would want those old bags to reproduce, but if you like chickens with rotten personalities, they're good. Marie said she doesn't care if they are mean; she wants eggs. 

It was good to see my friend and catch up. After not long enough of a visit, we decided to catch the White Mafia so Marie could finish up her day at work. You can imagine how trying to catch those old biddies went, dear reader. I easily caught Clarinda and Ursula because they are broody and hang out in the nesting boxes. Regina George was the worst to catch. They kicked up so much dust in the coop that it was hard to breathe. I caught Regina George by the leg and hung her upside down to calm her down. I'm not going to lie, after days of being flogged by her, I enjoyed hanging her upside down by her toes. She's a menace to society. 

I had to have Marie come inside and help me catch them. It was like something from an I Love Lucy episode. We were tripping over each other, grabbing and chasing those white hags who are very fast and very good at eluding two fifty-something women. It was a lot. There was a lot of yelling and swearing in that coop. Once Regina George was caught, and in the dog crate in the back of Marie's Bronco, Marie opened the door to place Broomhilda inside, and Regina flew out. She was now out in the open, and I assumed there would be no catching her. Sigh, just my luck, I get stuck with the hag that flogs me. 

Finally, we had everyone but Regina in the dog crate. I looked at Marie, and she said, "Let's catch that b*tch!" So, I took down the portable fence, Marie chased her into the fence, then I opened the little chicken door, and she went inside. I slammed the little chicken door shut, and it was now only Regina and the broody cochins inside the coop. Regina made the mistake of trying to hide behind Fuzzy and Mavis for protection. (Actually, I found this to be rather sad and pitiful. Then, Marie nabbed her and held her wings tightly so she couldn't flap them. I opened the dog crate door ever so slightly, Marie slipped her into the crate, and it was done. 

We laughed hysterically and high-fived. Mission accomplished! Later, Marie sent me a text thanking me for the memories. Marie is my friend Monica's twin sister. Monica passed away in February. Part of Marie's message was that she knows Mon was with us, laughing her ass off, and whooping. If she were here, she would be absolutely no help, but she would have been cheering for us and giving us her war whoop for support. I miss my friend. 

Now, the White Mafia has a new home, in a state-of-the-art coop, with a good chicken mama who won't take any of their nonsense. There is no bowl for Clarinda to poop in at Marie's coop. She has a water tank and water lines with little nipples for them to drink. Marie doesn't have to go in with the chickens to gather eggs or feed them, so Regina can't flog her. The White Mafia's reign of terror is over. Now, I need my chicken Taj Mahal built, and I will fill it with gentle Cochins. I swear on all that is holy, there will not be another white chicken to ever come onto this farm...unless it is a white Cochin!

So, dear reader, the chicken drama is over. No more attacks while gathering eggs, no more pooping in the water dish. No more pooping on me from the rafters. No more colorful language flying from the chicken coop in the morning and the evening. I can gather my eggs in peace and talk sweetly to my lovely Rue and his ladies. Fingers crossed that in the fall, I can get my breeding coop built and begin building my flock of adorable, gentle, delightful Cochins. One bib overall-wearing naysayer is still saying no to my fancy coop. Don't worry, I'll wear him down. (Insert a wink).

On this drama-free Thursday, stay safe, be smart, build those memories, appreciate the time you have, someone will take your unwanted chicken mafia and love them, and keep washing your hands.