And so, Lafawnduh...

... we say farewell to you.

Ever since she lost her roosting companion, Fraulein Biff, Lafawnduh has been a lonely, lonely bird. Is there any thought more chilly than a chicken alone on her roost during the winter? This has bothered me. A lot. To her small coop, however, I was dubious about introducing another young bird. Lafawnduh, as you know, has a sketchy past, and is certainly skittish and aggressive enough that a new companion would have doubtful tenure. I’ve been thinking it was time to give her up.

This morning when I broke the ice in her water trough, I let her know that she was bound for, if not greener pastures, at least more pasture. And more fowl-lowship. Harnessing my chicken-catching acumen, I waved my arms around, trying to corner the freaked out bird, since she was not totally getting the idea of entering the Size 3 diaper box on her own free-range will. Once inside, however, she hunkered down for the slippery ride out to the farm.

Lawfawnduh In A Box and A Farmer Leg

We were greeted by the sight of several chickens pecking around the yard. I knew Lafawnduh would be much happier at the farm ... as soon as she finds her place in the pecking order. I wonder what went through her head when she, after months of winging it solo, was suddenly dumped into a huge pen chockablock full of fowl. She dashed for an open spot in the run and soon after was accosted/welcomed by a rather large, fluffy white chicken. Their scuffle reminded me of the Mother Goose rhyme: the fighting cats of Kilkenny. They had no sooner broken things off, when Lafawnduh turned on an unsuspecting guinea. At least it looks like she will be able to hold her own. And maybe even get a spot on the roost tonight.

Giving up Lafawnduh brings me to another point. Ever since starting in on the fresh egg venture, I’ve been the recipient of a diverse collection of chicken paraphernalia. Friends and family have bequeathed such things as a motherly ceramic hen that sits atop our stove, a flashlight chicken that makes a “lovely” cock-a-doodle-doo whenever you turn on the flashlight, and a maniac chicken that drives a battery-powered car with the radio turned onto some hard rock station. Probably my favorite piece is from my in-laws (not to diminish the others). I really like it: Cute, huh? However, now that Lafawnduh is gone, I'd like to take this chance to announce that I'd like to put the acquirement of chicken items behind me. It’s just too (gasp, sob, sputter) painful to receive chickenware. It reminds me of a much gentler, free-ranging time.

So, really, I appreciate the stuff and, even when some items were given in jest, I appreciate the thoughtfulness behind the chicken-themed gifts. Really. But now, it's time I move forward. Chicken-free. Will we ever get chickens again? Maybe. Will I ever want to take up collecting chicken items? Nah.