So I know this is a super old thread, but I had this happen with my porcelain d'Uccle rooster, too. Last year maybe October he'd limped, I put him in his own area, he got better, I let him out. Then a month later, he started limping again. The second time I figured it must have been a rehurt sprain from the first time, and I was in the middle of moving and didn't put him in his own area. After about two months he wasn't getting better. I'd examined both legs, no bumblefoot ( first thing checked for), legs seemed to be about the same, the ohe felt a little different but I wasn't sure, so many feathers.
Took him to the vet, figured if they did an x-ray they could tell if it had been broken or sprained or what. Got a different vet from my normal one (normal one asked if it was ok if the different vet saw the chickens, she was pregnant at the time, and it had been a long day). So vet said bumblefoot could go to the bone, but she checked and didn't see any bumblefoot. Said both his legs felt ok, gave an antibiotic and a anti-inflammatory. Neither did anything for him.
He passed away a few months later. I'd held and cuddled him the night before he passed, and I noticed he was really skewed, couldn't look up straight, like something had moved more in his skeletal system, and he was lopsided. He was a really beautiful, sweet boy, that was a hard loss. His name was C.C., short for Conspiratorial Chicken (before I got him as a chick my co-workers told me I needed a white chicken to pet like the white cat the evil villain holds in James Bond movie).
Took him to the vet, figured if they did an x-ray they could tell if it had been broken or sprained or what. Got a different vet from my normal one (normal one asked if it was ok if the different vet saw the chickens, she was pregnant at the time, and it had been a long day). So vet said bumblefoot could go to the bone, but she checked and didn't see any bumblefoot. Said both his legs felt ok, gave an antibiotic and a anti-inflammatory. Neither did anything for him.
He passed away a few months later. I'd held and cuddled him the night before he passed, and I noticed he was really skewed, couldn't look up straight, like something had moved more in his skeletal system, and he was lopsided. He was a really beautiful, sweet boy, that was a hard loss. His name was C.C., short for Conspiratorial Chicken (before I got him as a chick my co-workers told me I needed a white chicken to pet like the white cat the evil villain holds in James Bond movie).
Hens go broody when you don’t want them to… and won’t go broody when you do. 