Me? Well, I have two girls with bumblefoot on BOTH FEET. So after I got home this afternoon it was an epic showdown between me and a pair of angry hens who wanted no part in my “soak, clean, slather, wrap, repeat” process. I have a cut next to my eye from a sharp, broken wing feather shaft that hit me while my Dominique had a flappy fit.
I have painful scratches all over my arms, too.
I eventually got their trotters cleaned and wrapped and sent them on their merry way.
I’m also in a power struggle with a perpetual broody who has a deformed, chronically pendulous crop.
And my SBE is a neurotic biatch who is picking on and balding said sick broody.
I also have a hen laying weak shelled and soft eggs at random and I can’t figure out what the hell is going on with her.
So, yeah. My 6 girls are really giving me a run for my money. They’re like suicidal toddlers sometimes.
“I have a bright idea. Let’s eat lead paint!”
I have painful scratches all over my arms, too.
I eventually got their trotters cleaned and wrapped and sent them on their merry way.
I’m also in a power struggle with a perpetual broody who has a deformed, chronically pendulous crop.
And my SBE is a neurotic biatch who is picking on and balding said sick broody.
I also have a hen laying weak shelled and soft eggs at random and I can’t figure out what the hell is going on with her.
So, yeah. My 6 girls are really giving me a run for my money. They’re like suicidal toddlers sometimes.
“I have a bright idea. Let’s eat lead paint!”