This day started with me having a poultry mite crawling in my hair. It was quite unpleasant. Things got a little better from there, but it has been a day. I have two good stories that came out of it though.
First, the broody hens.
Thankfully, Penelope and Vivaldi have let go of their broody mission, but I found out about Vivaldi being done in a rough way. I was collecting eggs and moving all of the broody hens out of the nest boxes and out into the pasture area last night, and when I got to Vivaldi, she was usually mean. She bit and twisted on my arm, which hurts so badly and always leaves a bruise. I had never had Vivaldi be mean like that, so it surprised me. I scooped her out of the nest box and plopped her by the door of the coop with a plan to take her outside after I grabbed the eggs.
But while I grabbed the eggs, she attacked poor little Bianca! So I ran over there and scooped her up again and marched her outside to the water bucket and told her to have a drink and cool off.
When I plopped her down, I realized it was not Vivaldi! It was Marshmallow! They look similarly, but I know Marshmallow too well. She is my Jekyll and Hyde hen. She is the sweetest little girl in the world on a regular day, but when she goes broody, she’s a monster. The first time she went broody, which was three or four years ago, we let her be a mama, and that was a huge mistake. When those babies came, she attacked anyone and everyone who came, even accidentally, within 6 or 7 feet of her babies. She attacked me while I changed food and water. I had to start wearing layers of clothing and oven mitts. One night, while she attacked me during evening chores because I accidentally got too close. She was in bed! She got up out of bed and left her babies just to attack me!
I made her a promise then and there that she would never again get to raise babies. She tries every year, but she’s getting older now. I thought maybe I was going to be off the hook this year. I was not so lucky. Marshmallow is broody.
Anyway, the poultry lice.
This morning, when I was finishing up morning chores, one of the hens (maybe Phoebe, though I am not sure. We have three hens that look so much alike I have to have them side by side to know who is who.) came up to me and sat at my feet. I knew she was asking for help, so I was sad something was wrong with her.
I scooped her up and saw she had mites, though not too bad. Still, I treated her and realized I was going to have to treat the whole flock with the plant-based treatment. It doesn’t work as well as the hard stuff, but it generally works fairly well. Because our chickens get to free range and mingle with the wildlife, we have to deal with lice and/or mites every summer, so I knew how tonight was going to go.
Interestingly, there is something wrong with this hen that I don’t know. It’s something reproductive I expect, and that means there is nothing I can do. It’s tough. Still, we’ll see.
When I put her back into the coop after treatment, Lucy came to see me, so I figured she must have mites too. She did have them pretty bad. She is so, so old. I have to watch her so closely for mites. I just checked her less than two weeks ago, and all was well; still, she was covered this morning. It was during my treatment of her that mites ended up on me. They won’t stay on humans, but I did get one running around in my hair, and it made my heart break for poor Lucy. It was miserable! Lucy should be better in a day or two though, and when I went to check on her this afternoon to see if maybe I needed to give her a bath, she was dust bathing herself in sand box. That will help her so much.
Tonight, because I had to treat the whole flock, I started with the broody hens before dinner. Out of the broody hens, only one had mites, but I had a lot of dread when it was time to get the dreaded Marshmallow. Ron was outside, and I told him I was getting myself ready to treat Marshmallow. He was wearing gloves and a long-sleeved shirt, so he volunteered to hold her while I treated her.
I was so thankful for this. She growled and fussed the whole time, but we got her treated. Ron walked into the pasture with her, and I said, “Try to sit her down far away from people because she’s going to attack everyone in sight.”
Then, I told the chickens, “Marshmallow is coming into the pasture. Stay out of her way!”
Ron walked her all the way to the far end of our property before sitting her down.
“I hope a hawk doesn’t get her way out there all alone,” he said.
I wasn’t worried. First, I knew she would make pretty much a beeline for the coop. Second, she’s such a monster right now, if a hawk attacked her, she would probably attack back.
Tonight, Ron and I went through the coop and treated every chicken. That was a task. Thankfully, only a handful of chickens had mites. We caught it early!
Also, I don’t think I have ever been more thankful for a shower tonight.
