Weeble is our special little guy. He had a hard start in life and it's been a rocky road ever since. He hatched on Easter day of 2011 along with 4 other little chicks. He was in distress part way through his hatch, and when I got home from Easter supper he was dried into the lining of the shell with most of the shell cracked off (I was having an AWEFULL time with humidity this spring in the bator). I soaked the skin off him gently and returned him to the bator to dry out and get his legs under him. After all the others dried off and started walking around, I moved them to the brooder. Weeble was still flopping, unable to walk. I left him there another night to see if he was just slow... Well, he was REALLY slow, 48 hours and all he could do was flail and tumble. I put him in the brooder and resigned myself to "let nature take it's course". When I got home at night I expected the worst. But there he was, head rolling around but sitting flat on the floor. So I tried to get him to drink a little. I gently dripped a droplet of water on his beak (taking care to not get it in his nostrils), he convulsed and I thought I had killed him!! So again, I set him down and figured he was doomed. The next morning, there he was...still alive, head rolling and flopping, but eating a bit. This went on for days, and pretty soon the flopping became just rolling of the head, then it developed into a twitch, then it went away and he was "normal".
Despite his rough start, he lived with his fellow hatchlings and was a part of their flock. One blistering hot day, I took the babies out for their first forage session outdoors. My four older hens were out also, and didn't pay much attention to the new kids. Until the youngsters moved closer to the older hens... then order had to be established. Dinka took this job as she is the top bird. I should've known there was something wrong immediately. She started singling Weeble out and mercilesly attacking him. He started walking into corners and then would stand there like he couldn't find his way out of the corner. He didn't act scared, and when she attacked, he didn't fight back nor did he act submissive... he just stood there with an idiot sort of vacant look in his eyes. I didn't allow the abuse to continue, and I seperated him out. I figured he was tired because he kept walking up to walls and standing there "confused". So I packed everyone back into the coop and put them to bed. Next morning he seemed fine, walked to the front of the pen for food with the rest of his hatch-mates.
It was another even more indomitably HHHOOOTTT day. Mike and I got home from our shop and went about doing chores. There was Weeble, curled into the corner of the cage, head twisted under his breast, flopping and flailing, unable to stand. Mike was distraught and nearly in tears as he brought Weebs to me. Of course my first thought was a broken neck. I gently felt his neck and couldn't detect anything outta wack. I was crestfallen! I had no idea what was wrong, and I was stalling putting him out of his misery. So I gave him some water drops, and found a small box to keep him in for the night while I decided what to do.
I discovered he had wry-neck, and that if he didn't show improvement in a couple weeks, it was likely he would die. It took a month to get him back to a respectable level of health. Here is the link to the diary I kept of the process:
https://www.backyardchickens.com/forum/viewtopic.php?id=521570
In the mean time, the neighbors dogs broke through the screen on the window into my garage and massacred my hens and crushed the brooder that his hatch-mates were in. We found Dinka hiding by the fence in the yard. She had miraculously escaped with only mild mauling. Because of Weeble's malady, he was living inside the house with us, in a basket.
Rest In Peace little chicks and my lovely Pocahantas, Daisy and Nona:
Then only Weeble and Dinka remained. Dinka in the coop, alone in the garage. Weeble in the house, still unable to walk forward.
Despite his rough start, he lived with his fellow hatchlings and was a part of their flock. One blistering hot day, I took the babies out for their first forage session outdoors. My four older hens were out also, and didn't pay much attention to the new kids. Until the youngsters moved closer to the older hens... then order had to be established. Dinka took this job as she is the top bird. I should've known there was something wrong immediately. She started singling Weeble out and mercilesly attacking him. He started walking into corners and then would stand there like he couldn't find his way out of the corner. He didn't act scared, and when she attacked, he didn't fight back nor did he act submissive... he just stood there with an idiot sort of vacant look in his eyes. I didn't allow the abuse to continue, and I seperated him out. I figured he was tired because he kept walking up to walls and standing there "confused". So I packed everyone back into the coop and put them to bed. Next morning he seemed fine, walked to the front of the pen for food with the rest of his hatch-mates.
It was another even more indomitably HHHOOOTTT day. Mike and I got home from our shop and went about doing chores. There was Weeble, curled into the corner of the cage, head twisted under his breast, flopping and flailing, unable to stand. Mike was distraught and nearly in tears as he brought Weebs to me. Of course my first thought was a broken neck. I gently felt his neck and couldn't detect anything outta wack. I was crestfallen! I had no idea what was wrong, and I was stalling putting him out of his misery. So I gave him some water drops, and found a small box to keep him in for the night while I decided what to do.
I discovered he had wry-neck, and that if he didn't show improvement in a couple weeks, it was likely he would die. It took a month to get him back to a respectable level of health. Here is the link to the diary I kept of the process:
https://www.backyardchickens.com/forum/viewtopic.php?id=521570
In the mean time, the neighbors dogs broke through the screen on the window into my garage and massacred my hens and crushed the brooder that his hatch-mates were in. We found Dinka hiding by the fence in the yard. She had miraculously escaped with only mild mauling. Because of Weeble's malady, he was living inside the house with us, in a basket.
Rest In Peace little chicks and my lovely Pocahantas, Daisy and Nona:
Then only Weeble and Dinka remained. Dinka in the coop, alone in the garage. Weeble in the house, still unable to walk forward.
