The Cycle of Life and Death
I have now experienced firsthand what I have been forewarned of: the unexpected and sudden death of our farm animals.
Last night the dogs were going berserk, barking and trying to dig into the chicken pen. I couldn't figure out why. I thought that the batteries in their shock collars that keeps them away from both the perimeter of the coop/pen and the boundary fence were dead. Then I thought that a critter had gotten into the coop/pen and was threatening the chickens. Our black dog, India, kept barking while standing in front of the coop/pen, turning her head to see if I was paying attention. I thought, at the time, she was doing a Lassie routine. If I had only gone to check.
This morning I saw what they were barking at. I lifted up the long piece of paneling I was using for shade that had fallen on the ground to discover the bodies of 3 of the 11 week old chicks underneath. Baby White Rooster and Bianca, the little white hen, were dead. When I looked to the third body…it moved. Then it tried to lift its head. It was one of the little roosters and he was struggling to stand. I lifted him up, examined his wings, which he was holding to his side, and then his legs. He squeaked in pain when I touched his legs.
For a brief moment we considered the thought of putting him out of his misery by wringing his neck. I had to give him a chance…a chance to recover while I considered this drastic and Draconian measure. I held on to him, feeling his heart racing and then felt him relax. I really wanted him to live. I want to think that he knew I wanted to help him and he could relax. Who knows what he was thinking.
I tested his leg strength by setting him on his feet and he just fell over. I carried him over to the feeder and he was able to eat, taking in little dainty nibbles. I dipped his beak in the watering trough…but he didn't drink. I kept testing, setting him on his feet and after letting him eat and rest in my hands for ten minutes, tested him again. This time he was able to stand for a few seconds on his own. When he collapsed he was immediately pecked at by another hen. Pecking order is constantly tested in this flock and I realized that until he regained his strength I couldn't leave him with the rest of the flock. He would be at their mercy.
We have a little wooden enclosure where Mama Roux and Grace have been living. It is fully enclosed with a wire covered window. It is the perfect place to convalesce. He has fresh food and water. I have set up an alternate little crate with straw on the floor of the coop for Mama Roux and Grace while the baby rooster is healing.
This will be a long day. When I get home from work I'll see how he is doing. I am struggling with taking him to the vet. Do I put more money into saving him when I am going to sell him and might get $2 for him? Or can I even look at this from an economic standpoint? I think that once we started naming all of the chickens, our relationship became one of a loving guardianship, not an economic venture based on dollars and cents. If that were the case we also would not have built a chicken coop complete with curtains and a linoleum floor!
I am just heartsick over this. I have apologized to the dogs for yelling at them when they were really just trying to warn me and help the chickens, I have apologized countless times to the chicken that is injured and I have sung prayers to the two that were killed. I hope they forgive me my negligence. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Rest in peace, dear little feathered ones.
*Update: I have just gotten back from the vet and the little guy is going to be fine. He will need to convalesce in private for a couple of days and then he can mingle again with his gang. The cost of 28 dollars for the vet was well worth it. I came home to find a green egg laid by Martha, a little white banty egg laid by Goldie and our big red girl, Nicole, sitting in a nest. Life goes on.
PS: we are NOT going to sell the brave survivor. He is now officially staying...and has been named Jericho!
Last night the dogs were going berserk, barking and trying to dig into the chicken pen. I couldn't figure out why. I thought that the batteries in their shock collars that keeps them away from both the perimeter of the coop/pen and the boundary fence were dead. Then I thought that a critter had gotten into the coop/pen and was threatening the chickens. Our black dog, India, kept barking while standing in front of the coop/pen, turning her head to see if I was paying attention. I thought, at the time, she was doing a Lassie routine. If I had only gone to check.
This morning I saw what they were barking at. I lifted up the long piece of paneling I was using for shade that had fallen on the ground to discover the bodies of 3 of the 11 week old chicks underneath. Baby White Rooster and Bianca, the little white hen, were dead. When I looked to the third body…it moved. Then it tried to lift its head. It was one of the little roosters and he was struggling to stand. I lifted him up, examined his wings, which he was holding to his side, and then his legs. He squeaked in pain when I touched his legs.
For a brief moment we considered the thought of putting him out of his misery by wringing his neck. I had to give him a chance…a chance to recover while I considered this drastic and Draconian measure. I held on to him, feeling his heart racing and then felt him relax. I really wanted him to live. I want to think that he knew I wanted to help him and he could relax. Who knows what he was thinking.
I tested his leg strength by setting him on his feet and he just fell over. I carried him over to the feeder and he was able to eat, taking in little dainty nibbles. I dipped his beak in the watering trough…but he didn't drink. I kept testing, setting him on his feet and after letting him eat and rest in my hands for ten minutes, tested him again. This time he was able to stand for a few seconds on his own. When he collapsed he was immediately pecked at by another hen. Pecking order is constantly tested in this flock and I realized that until he regained his strength I couldn't leave him with the rest of the flock. He would be at their mercy.
We have a little wooden enclosure where Mama Roux and Grace have been living. It is fully enclosed with a wire covered window. It is the perfect place to convalesce. He has fresh food and water. I have set up an alternate little crate with straw on the floor of the coop for Mama Roux and Grace while the baby rooster is healing.
This will be a long day. When I get home from work I'll see how he is doing. I am struggling with taking him to the vet. Do I put more money into saving him when I am going to sell him and might get $2 for him? Or can I even look at this from an economic standpoint? I think that once we started naming all of the chickens, our relationship became one of a loving guardianship, not an economic venture based on dollars and cents. If that were the case we also would not have built a chicken coop complete with curtains and a linoleum floor!
I am just heartsick over this. I have apologized to the dogs for yelling at them when they were really just trying to warn me and help the chickens, I have apologized countless times to the chicken that is injured and I have sung prayers to the two that were killed. I hope they forgive me my negligence. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Rest in peace, dear little feathered ones.
*Update: I have just gotten back from the vet and the little guy is going to be fine. He will need to convalesce in private for a couple of days and then he can mingle again with his gang. The cost of 28 dollars for the vet was well worth it. I came home to find a green egg laid by Martha, a little white banty egg laid by Goldie and our big red girl, Nicole, sitting in a nest. Life goes on.
PS: we are NOT going to sell the brave survivor. He is now officially staying...and has been named Jericho!
posted by Chicken Mama at 11:16 AM
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