Although I have been an animal lover since birth, birds were never my favorites. I did not understand their body language and was confused by their flapping wings, sharp beaks, and vicious talons. Those who know me love to tell stories about be running away from Gus the Goose as a teenager, or hitting the floor when a visiting parrot made a sudden move, and panicking on bird day during vet tech school. Clearly, I have (mostly) gotten past this, and now my ladies (and one gentleman) are now among my most fascinating pets. I use the word "pets" rather than "farm animals" on purpose. Farm animals have a use, a specific value, and earn their keep. Mine will never earn what I have put into them, but I adore them all the same.
I am coming up on over 17 years as a vet tech (weird, bc I swear I am 23) and I have seen more gruesome and disgusting injuries than most people care to think about. I have worked in most specialties, including critical care/ER and have seen it all. My coworkers will tell you that I, like all of them, can handle the worst open fracture, or the dog infested with maggots without hesitation. I
can get an IV in a seizing patient, draw blood on a tiny kitten, induce vomiting in a dog that ate something toxic, and calculate drug dosages in my head. Yet, we all have our kryptonite. Mine happens to be anything eye ball related. I do not know when this started, or if I was born with it, but the thought of anything happening to an eye is almost unbearable to me.
Over the years, both on the farm and at work, I have had to deal with many scratched corneas, glaucoma patients, and other optical injuries I wish I could forget. Mostly, it is the impalement injuries and pressure checks that I try to steer clear of...oh and the proptosed eyes. Nope. No thank you. (*Proptosed eye- eyeball that has mostly left the head it is supposed to be in. Usually still connected by various vessels. Creepy when it is still looking around. Otherwise known as a quick way to get Andrea out of the room. ) I have some great pictures of this, but my father reads this blog, and I have promised nothing too gory. I certainly did not get my strong stomach from him.
Life Tip: If you ever want my dad to butt out of a conversation, start talking about something bloody...works every time. You can thank him for the lack of really good pictures in these stories.
Back to the chickens. I had finally decided I really wanted to be semi self sufficient. I had the big garden and mostly fed myself from that all summer and the next logical step seemed to be chickens. I finally convinced my landlords at the time to allow me to put a small flock on their property. Previous post has the story of Quinn "assisting" me with that first coop. I wish I had videos of all of the times I had to catch chickens when I still was not comfortable around them. I would be a viral hit for sure. I have split pants, slipped and fallen into "mud", and one time took a dive into a duck pond. Generally, my language during these trysts would make a sailor blush. Humility is not something I struggle with. I learned long ago to laugh first, then make sure all of my pieces and parts are working. It is fairly tough to embarrass me these days.
Of course, it was not long until one came up injured. So, now there I was, still unsure about how to catch these mini dinosaurs, and I have one with a swollen closed eye. Great. Somehow, I managed to get this hen into a carrier and into work with me. My coworkers were used to seeing all dogs and cats, with the occasional guinea pig so they were delighted to have something new to play with. We diagnosed the injury, which was pretty severe. I found myself medicating this wild creature's eye many times per day trying to save it. Unfortunately, in this case, she did lose use of that eye, but went on for another happy year as my favorite (until a hawk snagged her while out free ranging.) Many lessons learned. First one is to never have a favorite, as they are the first to get snagged by a predator or disease. Second is to never name them. Same reason.
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| Bum soaking |
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| Swollen bum |
After that first farm, I moved to a suburb, and moved Quinn and the ladies to a friend's place. She already had a flock, and we just mixed them all in happily. Then one day, I noticed a swelling on one's hind end. I was still relatively new to this chicken thing, and wasn't sure what it was. Dr. Google was not super helpful, but between other chicken farmers and some veterinarian friends, I managed to learn how to check for a stuck egg (again, I will spare you the details, but it was fairly unpleasant for both me and the poor hen) and feel for other issues. I did a lot of soaking the poor girl in disinfecting solutions and giving her extra vitamins and made her a special little house. In the end, I never figured out what it was, but she did just fine...until, you guessed it, at some point a predator got her as well. Are you seeing a theme?
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What I should have worn checking for an egg
(actually me from another adventure) |
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| Happy little quarantine |
So, after a few years of handling these feathered friends, just as I think I have a handle on all of their common ailments, something new comes up. There was my vet's poor duck. This duck was a victim of- say it with me now- a predator attack. She decided we would try to repair the injuries, although they were great. This vet also trusted me with anesthesia for this duck. I had never intubated an avian, nor run anesthesia, but she walked me through it all. I was fairly proud of my intubation, and of her surgical skills. Unfortunately, the anesthesia or trauma, or all of the above was too much for this little one, but again, new skills obtained.
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| Bandaging Skills |
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After removing one part of the infection.
I did wear gloves and proper protection during the procedure. |
A couple of years ago, I decided to help foster/adopt some chickens that had been severely neglected. One came with a badly infected claw. I had not yet had to deal with "bumblefoot" but had read a lot about it. I did what I could at home to remove the infection, and wrapped the claw. It was clearly not improving, so I ended up taking her into the vet. The vet did a more extensive surgery, and i brought her home, but in the end it turned out this entire flock had a terrible bacterial infection was too much for her body to handle. She at least passed loved, fed, and warm. Again, sad, but farmer life must go on, and now I learned how to treat a normal bumblefoot if caught early. I have now successfully treated several birds with this.
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| Pre-bleaching of my kitchen |
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| some of the fluid removed |
Just recently, a friend came over to loan me some antibiotics for a very sick chicken with a respiratory infection, but she also brought along one of hers. I immediately thought this hen was doomed before I even looked at her because she had a name and was her kid's favorite. That is a recipe for disaster. "Pocket" had been off her feed, not laying eggs, and generally looked like death warmed over. She felt like she was filled with fluid in her lower abdomen. This is tricky because chickens do not have diaphragms separating their chest cavity from the abdomen, which means, this fluid could be walled off or could be interfering with lungs/heart. Her breathing was labored and I was not sure what I could offer. We discussed all of the things that it could be, parasites, infection, stuck egg, cancer, etc. None of these diseases have great outcomes. We figured, what the heck, lets give her a chance. I checked for a stuck egg, nothing there. She then had a very sick looking bowel movement (on my kitchen floor, because where else would one treat a sick chicken?) We gave her antibiotics (dose by a veterinarian) and decided that the least we could do was to remove some of the fluid from her abdomen to make her more comfortable, although this is generally a very temporary solution as whatever caused the fluid to begin with was not being treated.
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| Pocket today! |
Birds are incredibly delicate. Sometimes I feel like you look at one sideways and they fall over dead. Yet sometimes...they are tough as nails. We drained some fluid ( not the entire amount, as the large fluid loss could have caused her to go into shock) gave her some meds, vitamins, and some love and hoped for a painless passing.
What is the old saying about not counting your chickens before they are hatched? Well, apparently, you also should not count your dead chickens before they are dead. I am happy to report that not only is Pocket still with her family, she is thriving and laying eggs 6 months later!!
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| My sick baby |
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| Handsome man |
Oh, and that very ill hen I was treating? 6 months later "she" is a "he" and loving his life!
That brings us to the chicken in the tub. The day before Thanksgiving, the weather was absolutely beautiful, although a bit windy. I was home all day and decided to let the ladies (and gentleman) out for a a bit to forage and play. I happen to be outside when I heard the crows start cawing loudly. I did not know what was happening, but looked at my faithful dog, Baxter, and just said get it! We both went running towards the chickens who were by this time screaming. I rounded the hill just in time to see Bax with a mouthful of hawk tail feathers! All the hens had scattered into the woods, but I knew someone had been dropped by the hawk. I began to search, when my tiny little rescue red hen came over to me and flopped on my foot. Poor thing had been snagged and Baxter had saved her. Do not ask me how this 10 year old mutt who has never been trained to protect a flock, knew what to do, but I am grateful he did. I quickly brought little red (no that is not her name, it is simply a description...remember naming is an indirect cause of death) into my apartment, conveniently located above the barn.
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| Right after attack |
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| Guardian Angel |
At first glance, she appeared to just be in shock, with perhaps a bad headache, as one of her eyes was closed tightly. That is the thing about feathers is that they can hide a lot. As I began to do a full examination, I could see the extent of her injuries. It was a bit more than a headache. For the sake of everyone's stomachs, I will not post the pictures, but poor thing was clearly grabbed by talons and then had all of her flight feathers on one wing yanked out. Basically, she had some punctures, some de-gloving injuries and a head tilt, which I am assuming was a concussion. I got out the medical kit and went to work cleaning her wounds and applying ointments. I made her a bed of towels and hand fed her water, vitamins and left her extra treats, like spinach, strawberries and mealworms, to try and boost her body as much as possible. I left her in there with the lights off so she could feel safe and rest. Baxter kept a careful eye on her as I was getting her set up. He seemed quite concerned.
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| Tub Chicken |
I was not sure she would make it through the night. She was only interested in drinking if I helped her and had no interest in food. She seemed to be resting comfortably overnight. I remember thinking how fragile this little creature seemed. By morning, I was shocked to see how much she had improved! Perhaps these little mini dinosaurs are tougher than I give them credit for! Her eyes were open and she was interested in eating a little! By day 3, little red seemed to be a little too comfortable inside. I have a friend who always says the crazy cat lady is overdone and I should be the crazy chicken lady and start moving them inside. As I took a picture to send him, I realized, oh no! It is happening! She went back outside within the hour. I am happy to report, she is still doing just fine almost 3 months later!
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| Tub Chicken Today! |
If chickens are not your "thing" don't worry, I have plenty of of human, dog, and horse medical cases coming your way soon!
I want to note that I am a licensed veterinary technician. I went to school and have spent close to 2 decades in practice to learn the physiology of many different species as well as how to treat many illnesses and injuries. Although I do perform most of my critter's care alone, I do so under advisement from a veterinarian and I do NOT recommend you attempt to treat any animals without consulting a veterinarian. Making up drug doses and using Dr. Google is not only unwise, it is flat out dangerous.
