Eggs Eggs Eggs

I find people are quite fascinated with the color of the eggs the girls lay. The reaction varies from Ooos, to Ahhs, to WOW! One never knows exactly the sounds the viewer will have but they are all unanimous with expression of amazement and joy.

Children are especially enchanted with the different colors. I find the adults just wonder why the different colored eggs come out of the same bird.

When looking at the lovely brown eggs or white eggs in the store. You see a factory process of selection. The eggs which are not standard grades are cut out of the lineup. Eggs which are less than perfect have a grading system which determines their next journey. The Grade A’ head right to the market. Some Grade B’ do make it to the Supermarket shelf. The lower grade the less they are eaten.

Mostly this process is done because consumers want pretty perfect eggs and the stores know it. There is likely nothing wrong with the eggs you would get with a Lower Grade, but factories bring their standard ideas of what eggs should be to your market. The rest are culled out and sent for either packaged, dried, or animal food.

Just because I love the colors I am putting them on here for you to see…

These are “Honey’s Eggs”. Lovely rich brownish tan. Honey is a mix breed hen. Her Dad is Buff  Wyandotte and her Mom a  Copper Maran. Mix breed hens are infertile and will not produce chicks. 

These next ones were laid by the two lovely Ameracuna hens, Victoria and Elizabeth.

Ameraucana Eggs

Then here are the many different hen eggs I get daily.  This is two days worth of eggs.

All Different Shades!

These were laid by the rest of the ladies. Can you make out that really pale weird shaped one with the wrinkles?  That egg was laid by Mucky Butt. She’s old like Methuselah. When she lays it’s always exciting! She even looks proud of herself! She makes some really cute noises when she lays, but she’ll eat your hand off if you muck with her…

Eggs depending on the age, food and temperature can be thin shelled or thick shelled. If Calcium is low in the hen then frequently resulting eggs will be thin shelled. However, this is not a hard fast rule. An Old hen can be normal and lay thin shelled eggs. 

Then there’s the really weird happenings in the hen-house…  I call these lizard eggs.

Lizard Looking Chicken Egg

These below are called “Wind Eggs” or “Fart Eggs”

This is a small egg with no yolk. It is fairly common when a pullet is first coming into lay. It is not important and can be ignored, unless the pullet continues to lay such eggs. Wind eggs can also occur in older hens if they are subject to sudden shock or temperature changes.

Boo-Boo’s and Funky Stuff

Boo-Boo’s and Funky Stuff

This is Honey; the 10 lb cross-breed Buff Wyandotte, Copper Maran chicken.

In the photo Honey is standing in a huge 5 gallon pot. Yes, my sink is also huge. I had my hand gently on her back so she’d know I was there. The explosion of feathers, feet and claws I’d anticipated did not happen. 

She was quite calm, which is still something I am not use to. If a huge thing came and picked me up carried me into some weird enclosure, and plopped me down into a big pot of warm water, I’d come unglued. However, she didn’t, and I’ve seldom had any hen that did. I’ve had the girls for almost four years now. Still no real ambivilant behavior when I soak a hen in warm water.
I’m only guessing that it has something to do with sensory overload, so they just usually relax into a passive mass of fluff.

Honey was limping on a foot when I fed the ladies this morning. I picked her up and upon closer inspection I see she has a big black growth on the pad of her foot. It’s not swollen or puss filled, but it is most certainly a thick black scabby looking something stuck there.

I tentatively tug at it with my nail and see it’s attached onto the skin. Deciding it needs to come off I take Honey into the house for a good soaking in Epsom Salts and warm water. I took oodles of photos, but mostly because I thought she’d blow up…

I laid her on her back on a towel and was ready to cover her head, but of course I snapped a picture of her on her back first. Then covered her head so she’d relax as I worked on her foot.

I hate to show you her foot but here’s the picture.
This condition is called (in the chicken forums) Bumble Foot. Some of the situations are way worse than this, with puss filled pockets. Honey’s was not that bad.

After a long soaking of about 20 minutes I gently pried off the scab. It took a bit of doing, and it did bleed a little bit, but she is no worse for wear. It stopped soon after I took it off.

I cleaned it off with Betadine and then used a good topical antibacterial dressing. The kind which does not have any pain additives. Analgesics are bad for chickens. After this I wrapped her foot with Vet Wrap and put her in a private recovery area so others wouldn’t peck at her wrapper.

The prognosis is good. She stayed in the enclosure a few days and she’s not limping anymore. The bandages came off and the old wound area looks clean and closed up neatly. Now she gets to go play with her other friends.
I can’t help but wonder what in the world is going to happen next…

Here’s a picture of Honey’s Eggs. I love how different they are each day. Sometimes almost copper and other days a more natural brown egg color. I actually dated each one as they were laid, so I could take note of the daily color changes.

I call eggs “Magic”… They are Amazing!

Dyslexic Roosters

When I walk out the door in the morning, I am assaulted with the neighborhood roosters and their loud greetings of the new day. Our neighborhood is more or less rural-suburbia, with folks having one or two acre lots. On those lots they can have chickens or horses or cows, and god knows what else…  I guess most of my neighbors have chickens and choose to keep roosters. I on the other hand, I choose to not have roosters. They are beautiful, I admire them, and that’s where the attraction stops; and after concerned painstaking effort on my part to choose chicks which were hopefully female, I ended up with FIVE beautiful Roosters and Nine hens. I was awaken one morning with a horrific squalling, squealing, and hooting weirdness coming from the direction of the chicken yard. Stumbling to the door I peered outside in that general area and proudly attempting to crow was one of the new pullets. You could hear him trying to form a crow but the noise was a pitiful example of crowing. Continue this progressive morning scenario for two weeks: The family who lives the next road over must have several roosters, and I watch the little gray one I have listen closely as they one after the other, crow with a vengeance. Then he begins to attempt a mimic of their crowing. Except his crow was totally backwards… I was hoping and praying this was just an overly testosterone laden female crowing (they occasionally will attempt to mimic). The days following however, proved me wrong. Dayam!  The little Gray Roo pullet who is attempting to crow is a Blue Ameraucana (Not really blue). Here’s a photo of a Blue Pullet.

http://www.backyardchickens.com / Without their help, I’d never have gotten through my first set of babies. Wonderful site! I highly recommend it.

Most chickens when they crow make a Urt Urt Urt Urrrrrr sound. This little dude hit notes nothing like that. I busted out laughing… Ouuuuu-Urrrrr-Urt-Urt-Urttttt!  Ouuuuu- Urrrrr-Urt-Urt-Urt!  I could see him with a face which said, “No that’s not quite right”!  He kept practicing and practicing, his face contorted with the effort. He even bent his neck sideways trying to squeeze the vocalizations just right.  This kept up for about two weeks. Then suddenly another one popped out with a tentative crow. Oh God…. More Roosters! That week and the week that followed I counted a total of FIVE Roosters! They were promptly packed up and driven back to the breeder who guaranteed that they would be hens. If I ended up with any Roos’ he’d take them back. He was good to his word, but he was really surprised that his method of sexing them had failed so badly. I told him that the Blue Ameraucana crowed backwards.  He figured they just had baby crows and had not quite got the crowing down yet. Then as I stood there talking to him, the Blue let out a healthy, Ouuuuu-Urrrrr-Urt-Urt-Urt! The man turned quickly at watched him let out another Dyslexic Crow and he laughed saying, “Well I’ll be Dang” The little guy does crow backwards!”. Skip (the chicken guy), ended up showing him with the 4H kids.  I wonder how a Dyslexic Rooster fared out with the 4H judging? The Chicken Mama

One of the Girls

Do you ever get to the point that your chickens think maybe you are just one of the more heavy-set girls in the flock?  I think mine are getting that way with me. If I grow feathers, someone call the doctor!

Lately, I’ve been about living in the chicken yard, fixing this and moving that. Then starting new projects and working on stuff, bustling around, trying not to step on birds.

The mulch piles are in the chicken yard. That means repeat trips to drop in compostable items. They ladies are somewhat disappointed when I drop the bucket of stuff overboard in the mulch area. I can almost see them pout. Of course I keep some prize tidbits for them and that seems to redeem me in their eyes.

My decision to place work areas inside the chicken yard, was as much for me as it was for them. With me alongside them so much of the time, behavior and health issues are quickly noticed. Today Flakey, a lovely fat White Orpington had wet bottom. I don’t know what happened there, except maybe I over did the scraps yesterday…  Her vent was pretty messy.

Flakey Makes Me Laugh

She seems to hang around my feet a good bit, so I picked her up and looked at it. Hum… Nothing obviously wrong there. So, I went ahead and took the hose to her bottom. Sounds sort of harsh, but the weather has been very warm here; she got a nice warm spray bath on her bottom end. Nice and clean now, so I dried it off a bit. Then of course she heads right into the dust bath area and fluffs up.  Now she looks like a mucky-butt bottomed, mud-encrusted hen.  Oh well, I figure she’ll dry off and that stuff will go with it when it does dry (crossing fingers).

Do your hens move out of your way when you work? I’m wondering if these are normal birds at this point. A few of them I totally have to dodge! Some of the chickens, I have to down-right bend over and pick up, then move them over. They just don’t get it.  I have about six out there who feel it their god given right, to be under my feet.

Today I put in a small garden area. Yes, in the chicken yard. Why not? The mulch piles are in there, so is the ready compost pile. It stands to reason that the  garden spot should also be in there too. I really didn’t want to plant much this year. Just a few tomatoes, cucumbers and whatever else I use in the salads. Fresh salad greens sound lovely.

Future Garden

Smart chickens should feel threatened by the tiller so loudly moving the earth, but my really spoiled girls are just wondering what the heck that big “snoring machine” is? They (even with that thing) are dangerously curious, so I shoo them into the hen-house and shut the door. It’s quite large so there’s plenty of room, but they are not happy with me. I could hear Maw’s protests from inside. She’s livid. How dare I shut her inside. She wants so badly to dig into the newly tilled soil and find grubs.  I’m such a naughty Mom…

This is Maw. She wants me Dead

However, it’s going to be in the 20s by beginning of next week, and here it is March 1st! So much for that planting situation I had been dreaming of.  Inside my house sitting in tubs waiting on the weather to decide what it is doing, are two Satuma Citrus Trees, and One nicely growing Concord Grape Vine. I’ll wait on buying the tomato plants. I could start them now in a seed planter, but I have no room in the house for flats of germinating seeds.The new area has 8 feet walled fencing. Mostly because of Victoria who can jump 4.50 feet, standing flat-footed. Ask me how I know. She clears my yard fencing, which is that tall. Now, with that resolved and hoping she does not scale this fence, I hopefully will have a nice little garden patch in a few weeks.

Oh well, when this cold mess passes you can envision me in the nice fenced in planting area of the chicken yard, putting down tomatoes, cucumber, green peppers and a few squash plants. I’m excited about the prospect! With all the composed chicken poop anyone could want… If anyone would have told me that chicken poop would make me smile ear-to-ear, I’d have laughed them out of the house.

The Chicken Mama

Maintenance in the Chicken Yard

Nothing gets done automatically in a chicken yard. Oh they talk about automatic waterers, and feeders, but they still need to be washed out and kept clean. Then the shavings under the roost, collect all the evenings droppings. If you don’t clean that frequently, it just gets layers upon layer of YUCK. I could just sprinkle some scratch feed down in the general area and let the girls bury it with their digging. That would just be temporarily effective, and have to be dealt with eventually.  Maybe I’m just a neat freak and need the work out. Either way I usually clean it once a week. On the off days, I just rake some clean shavings over the droppings. They soak up any of the smelly stuff. Wed is usually the Chicken Yard day.

I do talk a lot about Chicken Poop. That sort of makes me laugh, because my husband calls me a (should I say it?) “shit manager”. He means it in the most complimentary way. When things go awry here, I can usually make the best of it and find a way to keep going in some form or fashion.  I’m also good at pluming. When the sewer goes crazy, it’s me who rods out lines. I learned that while he worked his weird swing shifts at the Paper Mill. It seemed most stuff broke while he was gone and at night. It was not really unheard of to see me outside at midnight working on something. Like the year the pump lines froze in 11 degree temperatures. I’m outside with a blow dryer, fuzzy slippers and a house coat, coat and head muff.

He is more than willing to help and has taken share of the drama and broken stuff here. He does more than any man should have too. So, I am giving him credit for all of the good he does, trust me. I just fill in when he’s not home. Now, that he’s retired, he’s here a lot more.

Ah! Back to chickens…  (sorry).

Yesterday was work in the Chicken yard day. As you may be able to guess. Normally I write about my experiences, day-to-day. Yesterday found me winterizing the coop. It has a lot of protection, so it’s not been a very big concern for me that they would get too cold. I’m in Florida, that’s not really a hard issue, most of the time.  This year has been so mild, and it has felt more like Fall. I don’t know what’s up with that, but I’ll take it!

My winterizing consist of putting up corrugated panels against the chicken coops chain link walls. The girls, are in a dog proof 10×10, roofed, box with a dog proof door. The main concern for me is the wind. It can be very windy here. I don’t know why, for that situation either. We are on the Northeast coast of Florida  and it just has weird weather. Today you are walking in Bermuda shorts and tomorrow you will have on blizzard gear.

It is January and the winters we have are worse in Jan., and Feb.. Windy and Cold. However, none of that has reared its ugly head yet. I just wanted to be ready, in case…

Thankfully, the chicken coop already had up two sides and the third side is blocked with another room, where they girls eat, protected from the wet and wind. I needed to put up cleaned panels on two walls. Then I needed to rake the whole pen area. That’s 50 feet long and about 20 feet wide. After that,  haul out the poop and get in clean shavings.

In the middle of all this working, I stopped and thought, Why in the world I was having fun? This is a lot of work. Then I just shrugged it off and kept cleaning. I must just enjoy the chickens. Actually, I do. I go out there cleaning and forget worries. I call it my church. Unless I ask for help, most just don’t bug me out there.

Chickens are a lot of work, but they are worth every bit of it if you like them. People spend thousands on their pets every year. Well, I just spend thousands of  hours with my chickens.

Alpha Chicken

Compost and Fertilizer

So, what ya gonna do with all that chicken poop?

If you have chickens, you have free Fertilizer.  I guess the question is, how to manage all that stuff.  Here’s what I do. COMPOST IT!

I know I’ve written about poop before, but I wanted to actually show you here what I do with it and how. I’ll have photos along the way, but this is a long story. I’ll warn you of that now.

My Dad, (Of course you know there’s a story here) had some incredible ways to utilize what the earth gave. I likely did not appreciate his oddities as much as I should have. Age teaches you that stuff later.

Daddy had the best tomatoes ever. They were delicious! I had no idea what sort of work went into the creation of those red delicacies. Sure he had a garden and spent a good bit of time in it, but still, I didn’t learn his magic. I’m still not sure I have it down, even to this day. His plants were at least 4 feet tall, with strong stalks; and the tomatoes, depending on the seed type, were golly whopper size. Just one regular ‘Big Boy’ tomato was enough to serve a family of four; for hamburgers and cut up for a small side salad. I grew up thinking, all tomatoes were this size. They were easily, a pound each. Sweet, does not even begin to tell you how good they were.

Dad was never exactly the pristine clean man, unless he was getting ready for work. I still remember his ‘Wild Country’ aftershave. Thinking about that now, it suited his personality. When he worked in the garden he was a total grub, with tan back and fanny crack. The garden usually had a enough space to hide stuff and Dad would lug about a 5 gallon bucket with a ladle (OK, a cut off jug). I remember it smelled fairly bad but the tomatoes loved it!

Then there was this large 55 gallon drum with a lid (Thank God). When that lid came off the air was temporarily filled with a real stink. Either it burned your smelly glans (olfactory glans) so you didn’t smell it any more,  or the stench was only temporary and dissipated. It’s a toss-up, as to which was happening. Either way, Peeeeee U!

When he would go to fill his five gallon bucket with more of that mixture in the drum, even the squirrels in the trees fled.

What was in that bucket, I only partly remember. I do remember the trip to the chicken farm though. His old (I mean OLD) Dodge PU truck was squat-hunkered down in the back like one of my chickens getting mounted. Here an there in the heavy load of chicken Poop, were white feathers. He’d evidently visited a poultry farm, who seemed to be all to happy to load his truck. It did stink…  He dumped it then he covered it with a large tarp and weighted it down. One large bucket of the chicken poop went into The Drum. It hit the liquid inside with a SPLOOOOSH~! He put the drum lid back on.

By the time that chicken poop in the drum had sat in there for a few days and a few more days, along with vegetable scraps, shrimp heads, fish heads, and whatever organic tidbits he could toss in, it was a brown goop. Thank god for the lid.

Dad also had a huge compost heap. Bags and Bags of people’s yard leaves were collected off the side of the road. Mom would see him coming with the truck load, and not know whether to laugh or cry. It made such a mess in the back, but at least Dad was quiet and happy doing his thing.

The goop in the 55 gallon drum, and fresh chicken poop, were also ladled onto the piles of leaves; as he built the compost heap. Another tarp went on that.

Dad’s garden patch was not that big either. Thinking back now, I remember it was fairly modest; perhaps 30×50 feet. The tomatoes which came out of that plot of land yielded enough tomatoes and other stuff to keep us in food all the time. Mother got so tired of canning tomatoes… It’s a lot of work. The neighbors got tired of tomatoes too.

The chicken poop collected for the fertilizing was the miracle. Chicken poop has a large amount of natural ammonia. Its corrosive, digesting ability  is powerful. So, when used, it breaks down the organic matter it is mixed with, very fast. The leaves and debris in the compost heap releases nitrogen, that in turn enriches the pile into magic Black Gold.

Fresh Poop Burns Plants

Ammonia is not good for plants; which is why you never use fresh chicken poop on plants. It would fry the poor little things in a day. This is why you use it to add into something else and not place directly on a plant.

New and Old Compost

In this photo you see a mixture of office shreds, chicken poop, and old compost, leaves and the kitchen’s biodegradable stuff; like rotting fruit and veggies. It is digesting this winter, for a spring crop. This is about  half way done now.

Poop does take a while to break down into usable bits. Don’t rush it. What you collect this winter will be ready for tilling into your soil in a few weeks. Just in time for the planting. Prepare your soil in the off seasons. You can also just till in the poop and let it begin to break down in the soil while it is not in use.

Compost Bins

When I build my compost heap, I layer it. What I call “Hot and Cold”. One Poop layer, then on top of that, one of cold organic matter; like the paper shreds and leaves. Between each layer I water it down good with a hose.

Here’s another neat bloggers list of stuff she adds. I’ll give her link here as credit. It’s only fair. 

• Gum
• Hair
• Toothpicks
• Pet bedding (Rabbits, hamsters, and other herbivores only!!)
• Paper egg cartons
• Tissues and paper towelling (Depending on what was on them)
• Cotton balls (Depending on what was on them)
• Paper bags (I shred these)
• Toilet rolls
• Shredded paper, newspaper, receipts and documents (non-glossy)
• Wine corks
• Matches
• Dry dog food (Be careful about attracting vermin but makes a good compost activator for getting your pile rocking.)
• Cardboard
• Old spices and herbs from the cupboard
• Nut shells
• Wine (Another decent compost activator)
• Felt, old wool, bamboo or cotton socks
• Dust from sweeping and vacuuming
• Old pasta
• Spoiled flower bouquets and their water

http://www.yougrowgirl.com/2008/11/17/things-you-can-compost-that-you-didnt-think-you-could

This is also a very good article about Composting using poultry waste.

http://greenliving.nationalgeographic.com/composting-chicken-manure-straw-20094.html

It is very likely you won’t have a perfect garden in one season. When you do the steps to nourish your ground though, you will have it yield to you in abundance.

 

The Alpha Chicken

The Alpha Hen

They say, that Experience is your best teacher. I was never sure who “They” were but, they sure must have been really smart individuals, being as THEY knew so much.  I wonder if they knew you have to be a chicken to have chickens? I did not!

When we first got our birds a few years ago, I was so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and didn’t know anything. Little by little I learned, but it did take time and thankfully we didn’t lose any birds in that process. Well, not many…

This brings me to odd chicken behavior, and learning about the Alpha Hens. The term “Old Hen” usually isn’t used in a complimentary way, and used to describe some mean acting, old woman, who seems to have it in for others in her area. That’s the Alpha Hen mentality.

Alpha hens keep the flock in order, more or less. Their Dominate behavior assures them the boss role in the in the flock; Which, isn’t always a bad thing. We all need a leader. Some chickens, while none are really stupid, (except Chris, my stupid Orpington) do behave in such a way that you know they aren’t firing on all cylinders.  Sort of like they got baked in the heat lamp…  (fried Yep, that’s Chris).

I’m a hands on person with all of my animals. If they are low, then I go down to their level when I am interacting with them. Of course, they are touched and cuddled and schmooze’d over as much as I can muster. Eventually, I win over most of the hens. Well, all except the Alphas. They glare at you with their eye-balls in total disdain, dance around fluff-dancing and looking generally pouty and almost menacing (If it weren’t so darned funny looking). You know that look of hate… (I’m not sure it’s much different with People).

This ambivalent behavior had to stop. How I go about this is a tad lengthy but bear with me. It’s sort of funny, if you work with the visuals I’m going to send you.

Maw- Velociraptor – Shrugs

Those are the three birds which seem to keep control and organize the flock. None of those chickens are the “touchy Feely” types. If you bug them they peck you; bow up at you, or down right chase you. Well, not me, but others… With kids around, this behavior wasn’t acceptable.

I learned early on that chickens have what I call a “tick”. This tick reaction is to hunker down when they are suddenly approached by a Dom-Hen or Rooster who is getting ready to mount them for a ride. Hens do that as much as a rooster, but it’s not for procreation, as is the rooster. When a hen does it, it is stating who is boss. It’s also a big show for all to see, clarifying the hen-dominance game.  Sort of like a dog humps another dog of the same gender. It’s their way of saying, ‘I’m Bigger Meaner, and I’m Boss’!

Along with the hunker-tick I learned, I also learned other body postures which defined the visual threat to other chickens. The shoulders bowed up around the neck, coupled with a deep stare at the perpetrator, which was surly followed by an all out fight. I learned how to do that one too.

After I learned a few more ways chickens use dominance stances and behaviors, I figured it was time to assume the ALPHA HEN role.

Maw didn’t see me come up behind her as she was getting ready to peck the mess out of another submissive hen. I stomped the ground behind her and she hunkered down suddenly. I took that time to push (firmly but not hard) on her back and do the Hen Mount. When I was sure she was in submission, I let her up. This messed with her head so badly she didn’t mess with anyone else that day. She saw me coming and moved right over, instead of giving me the EYE.

I have an area called The Outback. It is the place where hens go who are ill-behaved or just not acting right.

Maw started to chase and peck at one of my  Ameraucana hens, and this mess kept up all day. Finally, I’d had enough of her mean-spirited Dom-Hen behavior, and went to the chicken yard (I can see the whole chicken yard from my living room).

When I got there I went right to Maw who instantly knew her ass was grass. She ran. I ran. she lost. Grabbing her hump of a tail nub to stop her,  I put her in The Outback.

The Outback is punishment enough really. Those chickens get fed last. They don’t get the best of the goodies, get to interact with me, or other hens, and they don’t have as nice of a coop. To make it all much worse, when the other girls get to go play in the yard, and chase bugs, they are stuck in, Chicken Prison.

You’d think this is the end of the Dom-Hen activity huh?  Nope… I wish!  With Maw locked up and out-of-the-way, Velociraptor and Shrugs took over the chicken yard.

Velociaptor is a Black Sex-Links hen, with a perpetually  mean glare and long nails. Shrugs, is a Barred Rock Hen who looks like she’s a thug on a street corner with her neck all shrunken between two hunched shoulders, just aching for a fight. Which is why I call her “Shrugs”. Maw may have had some redeemable quality, but these two are both bitches (Sorry, but it’s true).

In two days they were both in the Outback with Maw.

After their removal the flock seemed to adjust and stop being so nervous and worried acting. No more fights broke out.

Every time I went to feed the Outback girls, I’d pause just long enough to remind them, I’m Lord and Master. They were not allowed to crowd me when I was feeding, and I took a rake to keep them back while I fed. Just seeing the rake reminded them, I’d use it. Then I stood there, not letting them come any closer. When they backed down, I took my rake and left.  Every so often I’d snatch a hen up and just stick her under my armpit. Carry her around while the others stared in disbelief and backed away. I’d kill time just keeping her there, being submissive. It worked wonders! After a week or so of that crap, they figured it was better to hunker down and take a mount than to be stuck under an armpit. Most of them hunkered down when I’d walk too close. The Outback is a pretty nice size enclosure. They could run, but they are too stubborn. They eventually learn to keep away from my feet and keep clear when I feed. They know I won’t hurt them but the degrading mount & carry is just more than they can deal with so they submit to my Alpha Hen Status. I am QUEEN!

So, with my Alpha Hen Queen Status established, I let them out. This took about a month.

They are so much more at peace with the others. They still hunker down when they sense I am suddenly too near to them, but when they do that now, I just bend down and pick them up gently and pet them and talk to them. Then I put them down and walk away.

This method will help the dominant chickens to see themselves as equals to the other hen, and me as their Boss (LOL QUEEN!).

My Subjects!  I am QUEEN!