Perhaps you have been wondering the status of Mean Chicken. I checked with my mother, a.k.a. Wife of Chicken Fairy, Keeper of Mean Chicken and the rest of the flock. So far, Mean Chicken has stayed put in her home coop, at least for the time being. But she figured out that if she wants to badly enough, she can fly over the fence, so now she is Chicken Unfettered. This newfound skill could add to her obnoxiousness, or it could be socially and psychologically liberating. I'm hoping she becomes a sort of Chicken Goddess who has no need to pick on the next generation and who instead serves as a mentor and grand matriarch. You know, Chicken Oprah.
Chicken Oprah would still be appealing lightly breaded and pan-fried and surrounded with steamed broccoli and a glass of white wine, so she'd better behave. I have her number.
Grandpa [a.k.a. The Chicken Fairy] was quite puzzled today when he brought in four eggs, since we have only three laying hens after banishing Mean Chicken to the Pushing Water Ranch Coop [in the heart of Fooleryland]. The mystery was solved when he discovered Mean Chicken, terrified, huddled in the Old Home Coop [sometimes called the Winchester Mystery Bird House because of its frequent additions].
How she managed to find her way home and subsequently to lay an egg in her home nest is a puzzlement never to be solved. The rest of the flock seem unimpressed, though when she resumes her Reign of Terror, they'll notice.
Submitted by Grandma, Co-owner of Mean Chicken, Wife and Manager of The Chicken Fairy
A phone call to The Chicken Fairy this morning confirmed the story. Wish I'd seen Mean Chicken cross the road and walk about a thousand feet to get to the other side.
Will Mean Chicken yet again be delivered to Fooleryland under the cover of darkness by The Chicken Fairy? Will Mean Chicken stay put in her home coop and mend her nasty ways? Or will she again pick on the pullets and be made into a hamburger? Stay tuned to Fooleryland to find out!
(Original photo stolen from this site) RING RING Me: Hello?
Mom: Hi, it's me again -- I forgot to tell you, your dad wants to give you a mean hen.
Me: Really. [Not surprised in the least] Of course he does. Why on earth would I want a mean hen? Mom: Well, she picks on the pullets, and your dad can't stop her.
Me, Failing To See The Logic: Well, we have three pullets, too -- what makes him think she won't pick on THEM?
Mom: Because she'll be "the new one." [Several puns flood my brain, involving pecking order and the new chick on the block, but don't let me sidetrack you] Me: Oh, okay, but she picks on MY pullets, I suggest we make her in to a hamburger.
Me: Hey, Chas backwashed the pool and I shock-treated it, but --
DING DONG! DING-DONG-DING-DONG DING DONG!
Mom, over her shoulder: Oh, all right, just a minute! To me: Your father is ready to go.
Me: Lemme guess -- he's bringing the chicken RIGHT NOW, right?
Me: Of course.
Sigh. My father is the Chicken Fairy and I have a lifetime membership in his night terrors.