- Nov 20, 2007
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- 3
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After three years of raising chickens I experienced my first loss this past weekend. I can't believe how bad it hurts. Goldie, our Golden Comet, and queen of the flock, died Saturday evening and we buried her behind the garden. I'm having such a hard time dealing with this. Everything reminds me of her, and I just can't get out of my head that I should have done more for her, and that I failed her. I'm still crying as I write this. (It's probably not helping that I'm almost 8 months pregnant and very emotional!)
I wish I understood what happened to her. Last fall, just as the girls were winding down their egg laying for the upcoming winter, when I'd go to open up the coop in the early mornings several times Goldie was down on the floor standing over a soft shelled egg. She was always my best layer and this was the first time she'd ever had any issues with her laying. It lasted about a week or two, with the occasional normal egg still being layed. Then she pretty much stopped laying with the rest of her coop-mates for winter, but when she did lay, the eggs were often very misshaped and the whites were quite watery. She was not showing any sign of illness whatsoever though. Then she went the rest of the winter not laying and it didn't concern me, since she went into molt and none of the other chickens her age (almost 3 years) were laying either. Then as spring came and laying season picked back up, there would be the occasional day where she looked "under the weather." Standing with her head kind of tucked down and not really doing anything. I was also noticing that she had a bit of diarrhea. A few times I brought her in and put her in a crate in the mudroom and gave her some special TLC, and she always seemed to perk back up, so I'd put her back out with her friends. In the meantime, she had been laying fairly normal eggs, but very rarely. Finally, two weekends ago we were in the mudroom and the hens were out free ranging when we heard a little "chicken knock" at the door. This is what Goldie did when we let them out to free range and she wanted me to throw out some scratch. I opened the door and there she stood, with her breast sort of perched up on the doorstep, head down, looking like she could barely hold herself up. I tried giving her some scratch but she wasn't at all interested. She obviously was saying that she needed us, so I picked her up and DH got the "hospital crate" ready and we put her in there. We nursed her for a week with special food, vitamins, electrolytes, tried worming with Wazine "just in case." Her diarrhea continued (sort of greenish, with dark stuff in it), and the fact that she was pretty much emaciated had become apparent. By Friday it was difficult to get her to eat/drink anything. Friday evening I got her to eat a little fresh tomato, one of her favorites and I held her for a long time while she slept in my arms. When I put her back in the crate she decided to sit/lay like they do on their perches, and little did I know, that tomato would be the last thing she ate, and that position would be the position she'd remain in for the next 24 hours until her death. By Saturday morning I took one look at her and sobbed. I knew this was the end. She hadn't moved at all, but was still breathing. All day she remained this way, my husband commented that she was like a Buddhist monk in deep meditation. Perfectly still, with a slow constant breath. The crazy thing was that her feathers still had a beautiful luster and through it all, her comb remained bright red though flopped. We put her crate on the patio since it was a beautiful day and shaded her from the sun. When DH brought her crate back in in the evening, and set it down he started talking to her a little and he said she lifted her head slightly, had a few small sort of convulsions where she kicked one leg back and looked like she kind of gasped for breath once or twice and just went limp. We buried her later that evening and I honestly don't know if I'll ever get past this.
Thanks for reading my long sad story. I just had to get it out, and this the only place I know of with people (besides DH) who understand. Please give your chickens some extra love today. All I can think about is how I could have or should have done more for Goldie. Regret sucks.
I wish I understood what happened to her. Last fall, just as the girls were winding down their egg laying for the upcoming winter, when I'd go to open up the coop in the early mornings several times Goldie was down on the floor standing over a soft shelled egg. She was always my best layer and this was the first time she'd ever had any issues with her laying. It lasted about a week or two, with the occasional normal egg still being layed. Then she pretty much stopped laying with the rest of her coop-mates for winter, but when she did lay, the eggs were often very misshaped and the whites were quite watery. She was not showing any sign of illness whatsoever though. Then she went the rest of the winter not laying and it didn't concern me, since she went into molt and none of the other chickens her age (almost 3 years) were laying either. Then as spring came and laying season picked back up, there would be the occasional day where she looked "under the weather." Standing with her head kind of tucked down and not really doing anything. I was also noticing that she had a bit of diarrhea. A few times I brought her in and put her in a crate in the mudroom and gave her some special TLC, and she always seemed to perk back up, so I'd put her back out with her friends. In the meantime, she had been laying fairly normal eggs, but very rarely. Finally, two weekends ago we were in the mudroom and the hens were out free ranging when we heard a little "chicken knock" at the door. This is what Goldie did when we let them out to free range and she wanted me to throw out some scratch. I opened the door and there she stood, with her breast sort of perched up on the doorstep, head down, looking like she could barely hold herself up. I tried giving her some scratch but she wasn't at all interested. She obviously was saying that she needed us, so I picked her up and DH got the "hospital crate" ready and we put her in there. We nursed her for a week with special food, vitamins, electrolytes, tried worming with Wazine "just in case." Her diarrhea continued (sort of greenish, with dark stuff in it), and the fact that she was pretty much emaciated had become apparent. By Friday it was difficult to get her to eat/drink anything. Friday evening I got her to eat a little fresh tomato, one of her favorites and I held her for a long time while she slept in my arms. When I put her back in the crate she decided to sit/lay like they do on their perches, and little did I know, that tomato would be the last thing she ate, and that position would be the position she'd remain in for the next 24 hours until her death. By Saturday morning I took one look at her and sobbed. I knew this was the end. She hadn't moved at all, but was still breathing. All day she remained this way, my husband commented that she was like a Buddhist monk in deep meditation. Perfectly still, with a slow constant breath. The crazy thing was that her feathers still had a beautiful luster and through it all, her comb remained bright red though flopped. We put her crate on the patio since it was a beautiful day and shaded her from the sun. When DH brought her crate back in in the evening, and set it down he started talking to her a little and he said she lifted her head slightly, had a few small sort of convulsions where she kicked one leg back and looked like she kind of gasped for breath once or twice and just went limp. We buried her later that evening and I honestly don't know if I'll ever get past this.
Thanks for reading my long sad story. I just had to get it out, and this the only place I know of with people (besides DH) who understand. Please give your chickens some extra love today. All I can think about is how I could have or should have done more for Goldie. Regret sucks.
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