Pjm14624
In the Brooder
- Jun 22, 2023
- 11
- 28
- 42
I'm that person who always has to learn things the hard way.
With that being said, we had an "incident" here a couple days ago.
I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing my hands, getting ready to start dinner. As I always do when I'm in the kitchen, I looked out the window where the chicken pen is in full view. I could see the three older girls, but couldn't see the little one, Baby Ruth. She is a solid gray, where the others have horizontal “bars” or stripes. I kept thinking I saw her in the same corner with the other three, but it didn't seem as if she was moving. I decided I should go and have a look.
Halfway up the hill, I saw that it was, in fact, the baby, but she was motionless, and it appeared her neck was stretched upward. I remember the thought flashing through my mind that she’d managed to hang herself somehow, so I started running (well, as close to running as this old, fat ass can be), and when I entered the pen I saw with horror that she was, in fact, hanging.
But, not by the neck. By her lower beak. Somehow she had impaled her lower beak on the part below circled in red, and it was all the way through like a fish hook that had been swallowed. She was very still, and I feared the worse. The horrifyingly amusing thought that went through my mind was that she was posed just like every rubber chicken you have ever seen, the poor thing.
I crossed the pen in like two steps and picked her up, to alleviate the weight in what was surely a painful injury. She never struggled, even when I frantically tried to remove it from her beak. It was so round it was hard to get her loose, but I finally did.
I was holding her like a football with my left arm, and trying to see the injury by tipping her head up with my right hand, but I needed more than the two hands I had. I went next door with her, to my neighbor's house. Judy and I became fast friends and visit with each other 3-4 times a week, often sharing a bottle (or more) of wine. With her help I was able to hold up the little hen's head, while Judy swabbed the bleeding hole with a wet paper towel.
She seemed fine, and the injury looked as okay as I could tell. As I walked her back home, she tipped her head and laid it in my neck. So sweet. I just took fly larvae (
) and millet up there a few minutes ago and she is running around with the rest of the girls and was able to eat without any problems.
Crisis over.
It’s really hard to explain how attached you can become to chickens. I guess you would have to have constant day-to-day exposure to truly appreciate what amazing, cute creatures they are. But Baby Ruth is and has been my favorite because she has always been so friendly and somewhat affectionate. I spoil her, and she expects me to.
So, I will have to keep an eye on her over the next couple days to make sure she doesn't develop an infection in that puncture spot. And, I learned the hard way to make sure those treat hooks are put up high and out of the way when not in use.
With that being said, we had an "incident" here a couple days ago.
I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing my hands, getting ready to start dinner. As I always do when I'm in the kitchen, I looked out the window where the chicken pen is in full view. I could see the three older girls, but couldn't see the little one, Baby Ruth. She is a solid gray, where the others have horizontal “bars” or stripes. I kept thinking I saw her in the same corner with the other three, but it didn't seem as if she was moving. I decided I should go and have a look.
Halfway up the hill, I saw that it was, in fact, the baby, but she was motionless, and it appeared her neck was stretched upward. I remember the thought flashing through my mind that she’d managed to hang herself somehow, so I started running (well, as close to running as this old, fat ass can be), and when I entered the pen I saw with horror that she was, in fact, hanging.
But, not by the neck. By her lower beak. Somehow she had impaled her lower beak on the part below circled in red, and it was all the way through like a fish hook that had been swallowed. She was very still, and I feared the worse. The horrifyingly amusing thought that went through my mind was that she was posed just like every rubber chicken you have ever seen, the poor thing.
I crossed the pen in like two steps and picked her up, to alleviate the weight in what was surely a painful injury. She never struggled, even when I frantically tried to remove it from her beak. It was so round it was hard to get her loose, but I finally did.
I was holding her like a football with my left arm, and trying to see the injury by tipping her head up with my right hand, but I needed more than the two hands I had. I went next door with her, to my neighbor's house. Judy and I became fast friends and visit with each other 3-4 times a week, often sharing a bottle (or more) of wine. With her help I was able to hold up the little hen's head, while Judy swabbed the bleeding hole with a wet paper towel.
She seemed fine, and the injury looked as okay as I could tell. As I walked her back home, she tipped her head and laid it in my neck. So sweet. I just took fly larvae (
Crisis over.
It’s really hard to explain how attached you can become to chickens. I guess you would have to have constant day-to-day exposure to truly appreciate what amazing, cute creatures they are. But Baby Ruth is and has been my favorite because she has always been so friendly and somewhat affectionate. I spoil her, and she expects me to.
So, I will have to keep an eye on her over the next couple days to make sure she doesn't develop an infection in that puncture spot. And, I learned the hard way to make sure those treat hooks are put up high and out of the way when not in use.
