TropicalChickies
Crowing
She really was.So sorry for your loss. She was a remarkable hen.
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She really was.So sorry for your loss. She was a remarkable hen.
Meanwhile, half of coastal South America is under water. This is the El Niño and it's just getting started.we haven't had a drop of rain here either - for a month - the ground's dry as a bone. Hopefully we'll get some at the weekend. No real danger of wild fire here though, thankfully.
Oh geez, I couldn't care less what a chicken looks like. I thought Cleo was bizarre looking actually when I first saw here. Beauty is inside.I didn’t say she was beautiful in physics. Imho Naked necks are just as awkward as Silkies, and some of the gamefowl.,…
(Probably a very personal opinion).
But she was beautiful in spirit, no doubts about that.
Petucha is more my kind of chicken.
I'm sorry for your loss as well.sorry to hear you lost cleo. mr. bumble just died a few days ago, so i know exactly how you feel.
Hi folks,
Catching up here... I've been feeling too despondent to post. Last week, on Friday June 2, our smart, sassy, incredibly sweet Cleo lost her more than three year battle with chronic bumblefoot. As I'd mentioned before, when we adopted her she was about 10-11 months old and already had severe bumblefoot in both feet due to a thoughtless keeper. She developed a limp within weeks of being here on our farm, and that was when I learned about this condition. One foot we managed to heal completely over time with repeated treatment, but in the other foot, the infection kept coming back. We kept it at bay for three years with soaking, scraping, antibiotic creams, etc, but two weeks ago I noticed the infection moving into the top of the foot and the ankle. Soaking, lancing and draining didn't work. Over the course of 5 days she became progressively weaker and lamer, her skin began to yellow. The oral antibiotics didn't help either. I began to think about how to best end her life, but she made the decision that day. The infection raced into her taxed system and she suffered a heart attack. It only lasted a few seconds. I was with her during the attack and when she passed out, I laid her gently on a pillow and waited with her until her last breath left her body, not touching her (I believe death is a solitary walk) just trying to fill the space with all the love I felt for her. I wrapped her in a clean cloth and waited until her body was cold before I buried her in the garden under the breadnut tree.
To be honest, I don't give every chicken that passes such a ceremonious farewell (though I do bury them with respect). Some are more, well, like chickens. Some keep more of a distance, a more feral way. But Cleo was special, in that she connected with me without reserve. In her life, she had survived a harsh entry into the world, bronchitis, multiple bumblefoot treatments, and a nasty case of sour crop (after eating a huge frog topped off by a bunch of rotted bananas she found in the forest). She was tenacious and she loved life. She acted as "rooster" when we didn't have one and trained our cockerel Lucio how to inspect the coop at night. She never went broody and laid eggs without a break, often laying well into her molts (which I believe took its toll over time). She was tough and tender and fair and confidently led the flock without needing to bully. She came to my kitchen every day at 4pm, without fail, to chat. She had the sweetest melodic little voice. She always pressed her warm neck to my cheek when I held her. She was my best friend.
All I can say is, if you're a caregiver who wants your chickens to live a long life, check their feet regularly and act before infection becomes chronic. I didn't have that chance with Cleo, but I sure do it with all my chickens now.
I'm glad she had a good life here. I wish it could have been longer (she was 4 years old) but I'm glad she went quickly when the time came. As a leader, she wouldn't have been ok to live infirm. But I miss her awfully. There is a big space.
"...pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is worse.
No one but death the redeemer will humble that head. The intrepid readiness, the terrible eyes."
(Robinson Jeffers, Hurt Hawks)
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Beautiful Cleo
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Sleeping on my lap a few hours before she died
About time too!Good morning everyone. I need to take some time out today and take some TAX photos.
I used to bury them with something for the ferry chicken; a walnut usually. I dig a nice grave,Thank you for the condolences everyone, and for reading my long post. I really appreciate it.
I just visited Cleo's burial spot and let her know that everyone was thinking of her and how beautiful she is.
And taking consolation in the vibrant life here. It's especially heart-healing to watch Patucha dote on her one chick, Solo -- who is now starting to mix a bit and hold her own with Tina's gang of three.
Here's Patucha getting some naranjilla fruit (similar to a tart tomatillo) down from a shrub for Solo. (The fruit is low sugar and loaded with vitamins -- and I have more of it than I can ever possibly use).
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So true.Beauty is inside.
It will take it's toll on the fruit trees I expect. I water the saplings.we haven't had a drop of rain here either - for a month - the ground's dry as a bone. Hopefully we'll get some at the weekend. No real danger of wild fire here though, thankfully.