I have noticed with myself that with each chicken I open (whether because of sickness or slaughtering) I look more and more in depth at everything. Anatomy of anything intrigues me.
The first several chicken cavities I looked at were excess roos that I processed, so they, hopefully, were not diseased in any way. Looking at them gave me a good understanding of what a “healthy” chicken should look like, except for the female reproductive system. I got good looks at the big kahunas they carried and figured out why they thought they were the boss of me.
It wasn’t until I did my first necropsy on one of my hens did I see the ovary with ova in various stages along with the oviduct.
I am the weird one who wants to separate and dissect...even on my sweet hens. My first chickens I affectionately refer to as my OG (Original Gangsta) Hens, have been so accommodating to my curious nature. Luckily they have allowed me to poke, prod and pull on them. And being able to do such has helped me to learn about the outer anatomy of a chicken. I find it all totally amazing. Only one of my OG Hens has passed and upon inspection of her she was completely eaten up with cancer. I did not grow up with chickens and before getting them I never knew they were SO susceptible to cancers and tumors. Who knew? I am sure my ancestors never inspected any chicken (upon natural death or even one killed for dinner). It just was what it was. Now days, we are so preoccupied as to why and how a chicken died, or at least I am.
Many times we chicken keepers are clueless to any problems our chickens are facing internally and only realize it when they die or are just days or hours away from death. When we do see symptoms of illness we begin doing everything within our power to help them, even though we have no clue what may be wrong. With both of my hens that have passed, one died on her own and the other one I had to euthanize. In both cases, after doing the necropsy, there was absolutely nothing that could have been done to save them. My 3 yo hybrid sex link’s body was overcome with reproductive cancer and my 1 yo Columbian Wyandotte had massive tumors on her liver (probably caused by the amounts of styrofoam the bird would find and consume.) Yes, she even found the foam insulation behind my house siding.
She was a PIA because of her incredible exploratory habits, but a sweet hen, nonetheless. I still have the strange artifacts I found in that bird’s gizzard!
I am at the Houston airport about to board headed back to Alabama so I’ll wrap this up. So many times I think we are guilty of wanting every bird to survive whatever might be wrong with them and we can’t stop trying to treat them, simply because we do not know what’s wrong. Thankfully, I have been successful treating my girls with slow/impacted crop and with egg laying problems. On the one I had to euthanize, I just knew it was time and I had to help her. It is sad, but something we, as good chicken stewards, must do.
I wish you the best of luck with your chickies going forward and hope your heartbreak is kept to a minimum.
