When I purchased my first peafowl I started out with chicks and yearlings so I had a good year to dream about breeding, hatching, and raising these glorious birds. Finally a year past and I found myself on the crest of my first breeding season.. I had five cocks and eight hens that had turned two years old and I was ready to start raising peafowl! Visions of fat healthy chicks more beautiful than their parents danced in my mind. That first year I hatched fifty two chicks and at the ages of two and a half to four months had successfully raised forty eight of them. I couldn’t have been more proud if I had laid the eggs myself. About that time disaster stuck. It started out with a beautiful loud pied chick about three months old. I noticed him limping and upon closer examination realized his leg was actually twisted at the joint in his hock. My first thought was that he had injured himself and dislocated his leg. I started talking to breeders with more experience than I had and was told he had a slipped tendon that could not be fixed. Further examination proved them right. I could actually find the tendon and the groove in the hock that it had slipped out of. Taking my thumbs I could manipulate the tendon back into place, but by his second or third step it would pop right back out. Not one to give up easily I tried taping it in place, I even put him in a sling for a few days to take the weight off his leg. As time progressed his leg actually rotated around almost backwards and he appeared to be in great pain .After more consultations with people who knew more than I did, including my vet, the decision was made to euthenise him. Meanwhile several more of the chicks were displaying the same symptoms. Fearful of finding another crippled bird, made going out to the pens a dreaded chore instead of the delight it used to be. I was told by several breeders their feed had to much protein for their age and to go from a game bird starter to a game bird grower at about two months of age. I immediately switched to a grower but by that fall I had lost twelve of my forty eight chicks to slipped tendons. A quarter of them!