Official Squatch Watchers

[AnaMarieK]

Do you still have your gallbladder? It sits in that area and if there are stones it can cause that type of pain. Just a thought.

I agree, get your gallbladder checked out. Sounds like classic gallbladder pain.

 

[Chickassan]

I'm glad it was peaceful Henny. Seventeen years is 119 cat years so Puddin had a very full life. So sayeth the woman who is treating her first case of cat pinkeye on a 119 year old not happy cat.

Love me some good pockets!
My leather coat for riding has 2 inner and 3 outer all are big enough to hold a lot.

I too buy mens jeans for the durability and better pocket size.







I took Puddin for her last vet visit. The consensus was she had a stroke. She went very very peacefully.
Honestly it is a relief to have it over. She was really struggling.

 

[21hens-incharge]

Feck.

What I came home to.

I got home from work and went outside to check the chooks. I went in the backyard and lo and behold, I have chickens (!) strolling (!) around, free, in the yard. Big Bird just walking around with her big white poof, like I just let them free range, unsupervised. Half of my big girls (and the Originals) walking around, free, all over the backyard.

Big pile of feathers on the ground.

I start screaming for my husband to come out here..."what the feck..why are my chickens strolling around??!! Go get the keys!!!" because I am doing a head count and coming up one short. I look in the coop, my sweet Brahma Bantam, Willow, is gone.

Clueless DH is like, "I heard Bucco barking and sniffing aroundunder the deck before when I let them out, you better check under the deck" (and why didn't you think to look at the time? Not that it would have mattered).

I go running towards the deck, take a flying leap over a big log that is by the firepit, gash my shin, land on my bad wrist, while noticing the pile of unmoving chicken under the deck that used to be one of my favorite chickens, Willow. Sweet Willow, who would always fly up on my shoulder when I got mealworms, sweet Willow, who would peck the back of my pants if I wasn't paying enough attentioon to her. I loved that chicken. Something got her and ripped her throat out.

Somehow, the side of the run tat DH jhad coered in hardware cloth had come open. There is a breach DH says the staples must have popped out, and so he nailed it. So Maya must have gotten out through a small breach, it wasn't my fault, I am not a bad chicken mom, I didn't miss her at headcount. Doesn't make me feel any better.

Meanwhile, in the other (secure) smaller run, my sweet Serama Suzi somehow has half the top of her beak ripped off, a chunk out of her comb, blood all over her chest, tail down, looking traumatized and with an empty crop at sundown.

I just spent the last hour and a half trying to get her to eat and drink (which she finally did, thank you @rjohns39 for your ghostly voice in my head telling me to get a can of tuna, cuz the lifesaving egg/olive oil/mealworm shake just wasn't that appealing). I put her in a hospital cage in the garage. I am nursing my traumatized self with a Founders Breakfast Stout, which my almost-equally traumatzed husband was nice enough to get me while I was cleaning the blood off of Suzi.

If I lose one more chicken (or anything else happens) I am getting a game cam and a live stream. And perhaps a shotgun (wait, did Yoga Girl just say that? Yes she did).

RIP, Sweet Willow. I will miss you badly.

OHMYGAWD!



I am beyond words sorry dear.

 

[Chickassan]

The feck? That is horrible! Told you that you didn't miss Maya though, not that it matters.
Keep fishing Suzi up, and lordy have another stout or three...You need a cam sweets, taking Willow made it personal.

Feck.

What I came home to.

I got home from work and went outside to check the chooks. I went in the backyard and lo and behold, I have chickens (!) strolling (!) around, free, in the yard. Big Bird just walking around with her big white poof, like I just let them free range, unsupervised. Half of my big girls (and the Originals) walking around, free, all over the backyard.

Big pile of feathers on the ground.

I start screaming for my husband to come out here..."what the feck..why are my chickens strolling around??!! Go get the keys!!!" because I am doing a head count and coming up one short. I look in the coop, my sweet Brahma Bantam, Willow, is gone.

Clueless DH is like, "I heard Bucco barking and sniffing aroundunder the deck before when I let them out, you better check under the deck" (and why didn't you think to look at the time? Not that it would have mattered).

I go running towards the deck, take a flying leap over a big log that is by the firepit, gash my shin, land on my bad wrist, while noticing the pile of unmoving chicken under the deck that used to be one of my favorite chickens, Willow. Sweet Willow, who would always fly up on my shoulder when I got mealworms, sweet Willow, who would peck the back of my pants if I wasn't paying enough attentioon to her. I loved that chicken. Something got her and ripped her throat out.

Somehow, the side of the run tat DH jhad coered in hardware cloth had come open. There is a breach DH says the staples must have popped out, and so he nailed it. So Maya must have gotten out through a small breach, it wasn't my fault, I am not a bad chicken mom, I didn't miss her at headcount. Doesn't make me feel any better.

Meanwhile, in the other (secure) smaller run, my sweet Serama Suzi somehow has half the top of her beak ripped off, a chunk out of her comb, blood all over her chest, tail down, looking traumatized and with an empty crop at sundown.

I just spent the last hour and a half trying to get her to eat and drink (which she finally did, thank you @rjohns39 for your ghostly voice in my head telling me to get a can of tuna, cuz the lifesaving egg/olive oil/mealworm shake just wasn't that appealing). I put her in a hospital cage in the garage. I am nursing my traumatized self with a Founders Breakfast Stout, which my almost-equally traumatzed husband was nice enough to get me while I was cleaning the blood off of Suzi.

If I lose one more chicken (or anything else happens) I am getting a game cam and a live stream. And perhaps a shotgun (wait, did Yoga Girl just say that? Yes she did).

RIP, Sweet Willow. I will miss you badly.

 

[biophiliac]

Feck.

What I came home to.

I got home from work and went outside to check the chooks. I went in the backyard and lo and behold, I have chickens (!) strolling (!) around, free, in the yard. Big Bird just walking around with her big white poof, like I just let them free range, unsupervised. Half of my big girls (and the Originals) walking around, free, all over the backyard.

Big pile of feathers on the ground.

I start screaming for my husband to come out here..."what the feck..why are my chickens strolling around??!! Go get the keys!!!" because I am doing a head count and coming up one short. I look in the coop, my sweet Brahma Bantam, Willow, is gone.

Clueless DH is like, "I heard Bucco barking and sniffing aroundunder the deck before when I let them out, you better check under the deck" (and why didn't you think to look at the time? Not that it would have mattered).

I go running towards the deck, take a flying leap over a big log that is by the firepit, gash my shin, land on my bad wrist, while noticing the pile of unmoving chicken under the deck that used to be one of my favorite chickens, Willow. Sweet Willow, who would always fly up on my shoulder when I got mealworms, sweet Willow, who would peck the back of my pants if I wasn't paying enough attentioon to her. I loved that chicken. Something got her and ripped her throat out.

Somehow, the side of the run tat DH jhad coered in hardware cloth had come open. There is a breach DH says the staples must have popped out, and so he nailed it. So Maya must have gotten out through a small breach, it wasn't my fault, I am not a bad chicken mom, I didn't miss her at headcount. Doesn't make me feel any better.

Meanwhile, in the other (secure) smaller run, my sweet Serama Suzi somehow has half the top of her beak ripped off, a chunk out of her comb, blood all over her chest, tail down, looking traumatized and with an empty crop at sundown.

I just spent the last hour and a half trying to get her to eat and drink (which she finally did, thank you @rjohns39 for your ghostly voice in my head telling me to get a can of tuna, cuz the lifesaving egg/olive oil/mealworm shake just wasn't that appealing). I put her in a hospital cage in the garage. I am nursing my traumatized self with a Founders Breakfast Stout, which my almost-equally traumatzed husband was nice enough to get me while I was cleaning the blood off of Suzi.

If I lose one more chicken (or anything else happens) I am getting a game cam and a live stream. And perhaps a shotgun (wait, did Yoga Girl just say that? Yes she did).

RIP, Sweet Willow. I will miss you badly.

So so sorry for loss of Willow wounding of Suzi and the horrible incident in general you had to face. I'm glad you have DH to bring you a stout and support. I'm glad Suzi has a vet to care for her and that many of your flock was unhurt. Be strong my friend.

 

[FlyingNunFarm]

@21hens-incharge It's never easy. Even if you know it's right.

Feck.

What I came home to.

I got home from work and went outside to check the chooks. I went in the backyard and lo and behold, I have chickens (!) strolling (!) around, free, in the yard. Big Bird just walking around with her big white poof, like I just let them free range, unsupervised. Half of my big girls (and the Originals) walking around, free, all over the backyard.

Big pile of feathers on the ground.

I start screaming for my husband to come out here..."what the feck..why are my chickens strolling around??!! Go get the keys!!!" because I am doing a head count and coming up one short. I look in the coop, my sweet Brahma Bantam, Willow, is gone.

Clueless DH is like, "I heard Bucco barking and sniffing aroundunder the deck before when I let them out, you better check under the deck" (and why didn't you think to look at the time? Not that it would have mattered).

I go running towards the deck, take a flying leap over a big log that is by the firepit, gash my shin, land on my bad wrist, while noticing the pile of unmoving chicken under the deck that used to be one of my favorite chickens, Willow. Sweet Willow, who would always fly up on my shoulder when I got mealworms, sweet Willow, who would peck the back of my pants if I wasn't paying enough attentioon to her. I loved that chicken. Something got her and ripped her throat out.

Somehow, the side of the run tat DH jhad coered in hardware cloth had come open. There is a breach DH says the staples must have popped out, and so he nailed it. So Maya must have gotten out through a small breach, it wasn't my fault, I am not a bad chicken mom, I didn't miss her at headcount. Doesn't make me feel any better.

Meanwhile, in the other (secure) smaller run, my sweet Serama Suzi somehow has half the top of her beak ripped off, a chunk out of her comb, blood all over her chest, tail down, looking traumatized and with an empty crop at sundown.

I just spent the last hour and a half trying to get her to eat and drink (which she finally did, thank you @rjohns39 for your ghostly voice in my head telling me to get a can of tuna, cuz the lifesaving egg/olive oil/mealworm shake just wasn't that appealing). I put her in a hospital cage in the garage. I am nursing my traumatized self with a Founders Breakfast Stout, which my almost-equally traumatzed husband was nice enough to get me while I was cleaning the blood off of Suzi.

If I lose one more chicken (or anything else happens) I am getting a game cam and a live stream. And perhaps a shotgun (wait, did Yoga Girl just say that? Yes she did).

RIP, Sweet Willow. I will miss you badly.

to you too! I'll never forget the girl I found attempted to be taken by a hawk.

Tell DH to use screws with washers. If it's a raccoon they can pull staples out. I wouldn't put nails past them either.

 

[ronott1]

Feck.

What I came home to.

I got home from work and went outside to check the chooks. I went in the backyard and lo and behold, I have chickens (!) strolling (!) around, free, in the yard. Big Bird just walking around with her big white poof, like I just let them free range, unsupervised. Half of my big girls (and the Originals) walking around, free, all over the backyard.

Big pile of feathers on the ground.

I start screaming for my husband to come out here..."what the feck..why are my chickens strolling around??!! Go get the keys!!!" because I am doing a head count and coming up one short. I look in the coop, my sweet Brahma Bantam, Willow, is gone.

Clueless DH is like, "I heard Bucco barking and sniffing aroundunder the deck before when I let them out, you better check under the deck" (and why didn't you think to look at the time? Not that it would have mattered).

I go running towards the deck, take a flying leap over a big log that is by the firepit, gash my shin, land on my bad wrist, while noticing the pile of unmoving chicken under the deck that used to be one of my favorite chickens, Willow. Sweet Willow, who would always fly up on my shoulder when I got mealworms, sweet Willow, who would peck the back of my pants if I wasn't paying enough attentioon to her. I loved that chicken. Something got her and ripped her throat out.

Somehow, the side of the run tat DH jhad coered in hardware cloth had come open. There is a breach DH says the staples must have popped out, and so he nailed it. So Maya must have gotten out through a small breach, it wasn't my fault, I am not a bad chicken mom, I didn't miss her at headcount. Doesn't make me feel any better.

Meanwhile, in the other (secure) smaller run, my sweet Serama Suzi somehow has half the top of her beak ripped off, a chunk out of her comb, blood all over her chest, tail down, looking traumatized and with an empty crop at sundown.

I just spent the last hour and a half trying to get her to eat and drink (which she finally did, thank you @rjohns39 for your ghostly voice in my head telling me to get a can of tuna, cuz the lifesaving egg/olive oil/mealworm shake just wasn't that appealing). I put her in a hospital cage in the garage. I am nursing my traumatized self with a Founders Breakfast Stout, which my almost-equally traumatzed husband was nice enough to get me while I was cleaning the blood off of Suzi.

If I lose one more chicken (or anything else happens) I am getting a game cam and a live stream. And perhaps a shotgun (wait, did Yoga Girl just say that? Yes she did).

RIP, Sweet Willow. I will miss you badly.

You are in a bad place with the currently! It will pass and you will get back to normal soon

 

[Suzi18]

Feck.

What I came home to.

I got home from work and went outside to check the chooks. I went in the backyard and lo and behold, I have chickens (!) strolling (!) around, free, in the yard. Big Bird just walking around with her big white poof, like I just let them free range, unsupervised. Half of my big girls (and the Originals) walking around, free, all over the backyard.

Big pile of feathers on the ground.

I start screaming for my husband to come out here..."what the feck..why are my chickens strolling around??!! Go get the keys!!!" because I am doing a head count and coming up one short. I look in the coop, my sweet Brahma Bantam, Willow, is gone.

Clueless DH is like, "I heard Bucco barking and sniffing aroundunder the deck before when I let them out, you better check under the deck" (and why didn't you think to look at the time? Not that it would have mattered).

I go running towards the deck, take a flying leap over a big log that is by the firepit, gash my shin, land on my bad wrist, while noticing the pile of unmoving chicken under the deck that used to be one of my favorite chickens, Willow. Sweet Willow, who would always fly up on my shoulder when I got mealworms, sweet Willow, who would peck the back of my pants if I wasn't paying enough attentioon to her. I loved that chicken. Something got her and ripped her throat out.

Somehow, the side of the run tat DH jhad coered in hardware cloth had come open. There is a breach DH says the staples must have popped out, and so he nailed it. So Maya must have gotten out through a small breach, it wasn't my fault, I am not a bad chicken mom, I didn't miss her at headcount. Doesn't make me feel any better.

Meanwhile, in the other (secure) smaller run, my sweet Serama Suzi somehow has half the top of her beak ripped off, a chunk out of her comb, blood all over her chest, tail down, looking traumatized and with an empty crop at sundown.

I just spent the last hour and a half trying to get her to eat and drink (which she finally did, thank you @rjohns39 for your ghostly voice in my head telling me to get a can of tuna, cuz the lifesaving egg/olive oil/mealworm shake just wasn't that appealing). I put her in a hospital cage in the garage. I am nursing my traumatized self with a Founders Breakfast Stout, which my almost-equally traumatzed husband was nice enough to get me while I was cleaning the blood off of Suzi.

If I lose one more chicken (or anything else happens) I am getting a game cam and a live stream. And perhaps a shotgun (wait, did Yoga Girl just say that? Yes she did).

RIP, Sweet Willow. I will miss you badly.

I am so so sorry. It's hard enough losing one.....but losing one that is so sweet is awful.

 

[21hens-incharge]

My son has just learned that many of his favorite songs are cover songs from older artists.




Bad timing sorry.

Just the shock on his face......

 

[BantyChooks]

Love me some good pockets!
My leather coat for riding has 2 inner and 3 outer all are big enough to hold a lot.

I too buy mens jeans for the durability and better pocket size.







I took Puddin for her last vet visit. The consensus was she had a stroke. She went very very peacefully.
Honestly it is a relief to have it over. She was really struggling.

Feck.

What I came home to.

I got home from work and went outside to check the chooks. I went in the backyard and lo and behold, I have chickens (!) strolling (!) around, free, in the yard. Big Bird just walking around with her big white poof, like I just let them free range, unsupervised. Half of my big girls (and the Originals) walking around, free, all over the backyard.

Big pile of feathers on the ground.

I start screaming for my husband to come out here..."What the feck..why are my chickens strolling around??!! Go get the keys!!!" because I am doing a head count and coming up one short. I look in the coop, my sweet Brahma bantam, Willow, is gone.

Clueless DH is like, "I heard Bucco barking and sniffing around under the deck before when I let them out, you better check under the deck" (and why didn't you think to look at the time? Not that it would have mattered).

I go running towards the deck, take a flying leap over a big log that is by the firepit, gash my shin, land on my bad wrist, while noticing the pile of unmoving chicken under the deck that used to be one of my favorite chickens, Willow. Sweet Willow, who would always fly up on my shoulder when I got mealworms, sweet Willow, who would peck the back of my pants if I wasn't paying enough attention to her. I loved that chicken. Something got her and ripped her throat out.

Somehow, the side of the run that DH had covered in hardware cloth had come open. There is a breach. DH says the staples must have popped out, and so he nailed it. So Maya must have gotten out through a small breach, it wasn't my fault, I am not a bad chicken mom, I didn't miss her at headcount. Doesn't make me feel any better.

Meanwhile, in the other (secure) smaller run, my sweet Serama Suzi somehow has half the top of her beak ripped off, a chunk out of her comb, blood all over her chest, tail down, looking traumatized and with an empty crop at sundown.

I just spent the last hour and a half trying to get her to eat and drink (which she finally did, thank you @rjohns39 for your ghostly voice in my head telling me to get a can of tuna, cuz the lifesaving egg/olive oil/mealworm shake just wasn't that appealing). I put her in a hospital cage in the garage. I am nursing my traumatized self with a Founders Breakfast Stout, which my almost-equally traumatized husband was nice enough to get me while I was cleaning the blood off of Suzi.

If I lose one more chicken (or anything else happens) I am getting a game cam and a live stream. And perhaps a shotgun (wait, did Yoga Girl just say that? Yes she did).

RIP, sweet Willow. I will miss you badly.

(Edited, as usual, for the world's worst typing. Feck it.)

Oh, taters. You all are really going through the wringer. I'm so, so sorry.