expr:class='"loading" + data:blog.mobileClass'>

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Blood on their beaks

I promise that this will not turn from a fitness blog into a chicken blog, but I must share a rather traumatic story that I'm just now completely coming to terms with.

When we left the story last week, the Leghorn biddies, Nadine and Roxie, were ruling the roost over the Rhode Island Red newbies, Ginger and Polly. I was deeply ingrained in the Reds' corner, as they were being persecuted and bullied by the Leghorns.

Oh my, how the tables turned!

Early last week I noticed that Nadine's behind was not only featherless, but also had a giant patch of raw, irritated skin.

It is here where I must apologize to the Googling public, because I am responsible for what will be a shocking and grievous autofilled search option the next time someone Googles:

"Why does my..."

and the words

"chicken have a bloody butt?"

are displayed as a selection choice.

It was me. I Googled that question to find out why my chicken had a bloody butt. What ELSE are you supposed to do when your chicken has a bloody butt?

To say the least, the children and I were alarmed. Hindsight is 20/20 (and in this case I really wish it wasn't, as you can't un-see the hind of wounded chicken), but at that point I should have put Nadine in quarantine. But I didn't know! I didn't know.

It was late in the evening, so I put the birds up in their coop and checked Nadine in the morning. She looked...okay, I guess. Not good. Not better. But not really worse and again -- what are you supposed to do about something like this? I briefly considered bathing her to clean the wound, but I knew the weather was scheduled to dip down to the 40s, and I read that chickens aren't supposed to be wet and cold. So I put them back in the coop. (Misguided new chicken owner!)

The next morning I got the kids off to school, and went out to check on the chickens.

When I peeked in the coop, I saw one of the Reds with blood on her beak.

Nadine was trapped in the corner of the coop with her hind end sticking out, and it was torn open and bloody. She was dripping blood everywhere. I panicked. Why was she bleeding so bad? Why was there blood on the Red's beak?

I ran inside and called Zach, my voice reaching screeching decibels usually reserved for children doing something very wrong. It just so happened that Sprint was working on a very annoying outage in our area, and so my husband heard only about every fifth word that I screeched. In so many words he told me that he had eight things going on right now, he's not at the house and cannot help me, and do whatever I wanted with the bleeding chicken. I forced a DROPPED CALL.

WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO ABOUT THIS?????

I went out to the coop and surveyed the situation. Nadine was trapped in the corner and was either too scared or too wounded to get out. I ran inside and grabbed some rags to cover her head (I didn't want to get  pecked) and pulled her out. She walked around, got some food and water, and acted...fine. Sort of fine. I went inside and donned an old flannel shirt, latex gloves, and my poop boots. (As a chicken owner, I now have a designated pair of "poop boots." We all do!)

I gathered a basin, filled it with warm water and Epsom salts, and set up the basin inside the shop. I also prepared a box with some shavings, food, and water so Nadine could rest after her bath.

I went outside and gathered up that enormous bird (I would wager she weighed 7 or 8 pounds), and brought her in for her bath.

How do you suppose giving a chicken a bath would go? I imagined it would be squawky, with feathers flying and hijinks to be had. Not so much. Nadine sat very quietly while I soaked her nether regions in the bath. I held her there gently and talked to her softly and she was a really good girl. After a few minutes I wrapped her up in the rags, dried her as best as I could, and put her in the box.

Now that she was secure, I scoured the Internet to see what I should do next.

Naturally, my first stop was to register myself on the message boards of mybackyardchicken.com and post an urgent message on the Chicken Emergency boards. There were all manor of crises going on on this page; chicks smashed by doors, chickens partially eaten by dogs, chickens with bumblefoot, chickens with Marek's, chickens that had been...nearly pecked to death by other chickens. WHAT?????

Apparently some chickens, referred to as "Pickers", will peck other chickens to death if they sense weakness in another bird.

This is Polly The Picker. If you see her, steer clear. She has issues.
So THAT'S why my Red had a bloody beak. She wasn't an innocent bystander...she was an attempted murderer!!! Oh man, that's rich. Here I thought the poor little Reds were being bullied by the Leghorns, when it turns out that the new girls were picking on the fat girls!

I read all manner of tricks to heal the wounded chicken and cure the picker. I jotted down some medicine to pick up at Tractor Supply. Before I left to get the kids from school I checked on Nadine. She still sat in the box quietly.

When I picked up the kids, I told them the whole dramatic story, and said we'd need to doctor Nadine when we got home. After snack time, I grabbed the medicine and the kids and I went to the shop to see what we could do.

When we opened the door, Nadine was laying down dead with her head in the water (later my husband would ask if I thought she drowned. Uhhh...no). I tried to back out before the kids came in, but they scrambled in beside me to have a look.

Man, the memories we're making for the kids with these chickens! I can hardly wait to pay for therapy hear about it 10 years down the road.

We filed out of the shop and had a moment. "I'm sorry, you guys," I said. "She didn't make it." They were sad for a beat and then it turned to annoyance. "Now we only have three chickens!" Drew said. "Does this mean Nadine has to go back to the wild?" Kate asked.

It was a dramatic end to a dramatic day. In the end, I'm glad she went quickly. My guess is she either bled out or died from the shock of being pecked within an inch of her life by a fellow bird and then given a bath by an insane human.

The days since Nadine's death have been spent being protective of Roxie, the lone Leghorn and only chicken left from our original flock. We have discovered that Polly is The Picker, and we have caught her nipping at Roxie's behind in the same area where Nadine's wound appeared. Most of the time they seem to live in harmony, but there are times when we have to fly out of the house to shoo Polly away from Nadine.

I tell you what, I was not prepared to be a chicken owner.

************
Workout of the Day
P90X Back and Biceps


No comments:

Post a Comment