Today was difficult.
I found Henry with his chest flattened on the towel, unable to lift himself upright. Every day since the coyote attack, I've stretched his legs and done gentle compressions to encourage blood circulation, but when I discovered some wounds on his underside, the notion of a sling and what I thought would be additional pressure on those wounds, just didn't sound like a good idea.
So I waited.
But the tradeoff is weakening muscles. I think that's why I found a flattened Henry this morning. When his hens came for a visit, he tried to right himself, which was encouraging to see, but also discouraging because only once was he able to sit up nice and proud for the benefit of his lady friends; the other times he remained flat unless I aided him with a rolled towel tucked under his chest.
More massage; some inverted naps while I reversed the blood flow in his legs and examined the undercarriage wounds and did some feather maintenance; mash, egg, pumpkin seeds, mustard greens and spinach, banana; arnica pellets; Bach Rescue Remedy; comfort hens and comfort cats; soft classical music; and honey treatments.
And water with some apple cider vinegar, but only a modest amount of ACV.
Then weird things happened.
When my husband shared some of Henry's cooked egg with the hens, a big piece got caught deep inside the head hen Rosemary's backend feathers. AKA the rambunctious hen. An hour or so later I found it just barely peeking out, just enough to look like a glistening yellow, maggot filled wound. She's a tough one to catch, the others are easy. I followed her to the compost heap, where I tripped and sliced the tip of my finger and knuckle open. It's hard typing words with the letter 's' because that's the finger that got hurt.
We pretty much went everywhere together, as I gently tried to coax her close for a backend inspection.
Once I caught Rosemary and solved the maggoty wound saga, other odd mishaps happened, all distractions from Henry, but each one involving paranoia that a T-rex was going to snatch one of my precious critter friends or worries that they're going to get horribly sick and all fall ill and die.
When the chores and romps settled down, I came into Henry's room to refresh his food and water, and that's when I saw Hen Pen Jem's immune booster recipe in a comment above. I've used echinacea and golden seal tinctures for over twenty years, but only this year did I start learning about hemp. It's a truly fantastic plant with tons of uses. The recipe gave me a good reason to indulge and today I finally gave it a try.
I swapped out the capsules for the tincture, which I diluted, and added some hemp powder, and made a mash with a piece of banana. This was my first go; if he didn't like that combination, I was going to add it to his water. But he loved it and ate quite a bit. I had some, too. It's delicious.
An hour later I came in to check on Henry and found an upright bird, sitting proud and hungrily eyeing the pumpkin seeds. I don't think I'm reading between the lines when I witness these changes in him. There seems to be a cause and effect to everything I do involving his care. The morning after I gave him his first arnica pellet, he was more relaxed and in less pain.
But the red sores on his lame leg, that's a cause and effect I wasn't carefully tracking. Unless those are breaks, and I don't think they are but who knows, Henry is developing sores from his immobility and his inability to move and adjust that leg.
So I'm now a chicken slinger.
You have to understand that I really don't know if my dear boy is going to survive, and sometimes I question whether prolonging his life is only prolonging his suffering. But I've done a load of reading in the forums in the months leading up to welcoming chickens into our lives earlier this year, and I'm seeing tons of examples of people who didn't give up and either nurtured their feathered friends to a nice recovery, or loved on them with great care and gentleness and comfort through to their dear friend's last breath.
It's all so beautiful and sweet, but today I was experiencing feelings of guilt and concern. His wattle paled, and his comb was blue around the edges. This was an unexpected change considering the vibrant color and warm temperature of the previous days. I don't think combs and wattles change color for the heck of it; I think it always means something. It's like a mood ring or happiness gauge, or a barometer or health indicator.
So that and his chest to the ground from weak limbs had me worried.
The immune booster was much needed and really seemed to bolster his energy. The healing with echinacea and golden seal is gradual and internal, not something you'd noticeably observe but something you're likely to feel in terms of its healing properties over the course of a couple of days. But birds may be more responsive to herbal supports, and the hemp protein may have especially done him good, with immediate, measurable results.
I think I'm kind of geeking out here. I'd best bring this one to a close.
But I do want to quickly mention the sling. It's made from a vintage cotton sheet and has a pretty spring motif, but there's nothing pretty about it as a chicken sling. It's rudimentary, roughly cut, and he looks rather ridiculous sitting in it. He didn't wiggle or complain one bit, though, and his legs dangled down to the floor, and the good one actually took some weight, thank goodness. The lame leg did absolutely nothing. It's very loose in the elbow joint, no resistance whatsoever, and the hip is loose, too. And again no reaction of pain from Henry, not an eye blink or a single head turn.
And I think I mentioned earlier that his lame leg is very warm. I'm wondering why and will explore that tomorrow.
So, Henry hung in his sling without a bother or a shred of embarrassment, and his undercarriage wounds, which turned out to be more like surface abrasions and are now nicely healing, weren't bothered by it either. And since he held perfectly still during the leg insertion process and didn't wiggle one bit, his topside wounds didn't move at all.
The sling is a wonderful success, and as dumb and goofy as it looks, it makes me feel like I'm doing something necessary and meaningful for Henry's healing.
That said, I'm still worried for his survival from the horrific coyote attack, and I really can't believe I neglected to address immune strengthening for him from day one, something I've always done with my cats and dogs. For someone who tends to always be prepared, I felt very unprepared for this.
Archiving this process helps me feel a bit calmer and more centered, so thanks for tolerating these numerous updates.
G'night.
