No Such Things As a Chicken Expert...

Our lil flock lives in a coop made from re-purposed materials, put together with barely a plan other than to make it comfortable and secure. It's set in the yard is an unobtrusive spot where it sort of blend in with the landscape. It looks nice and homey and it works for us. If I had it to do again, I would have designed it a little better. It would be impossible to get power to it where it is in the center of our large yard and solar is out of the question so the birds are only exposed to natural light. My family came over for Thanksgiving dinner, and everyone wondered about the eggs, so I explained how their laying is directly affected by the hours of daylight and since they get no artificial light, they probably wouldn't lay til Spring. I'm fine with that and my husband told me he didn't care if they ever laid eggs, as long as they make me happy. Which they do. The day after Thanksgiving I was cleaning out the coop when I noticed that the grass in the nest box was very trampled. I thought it was odd, so I peeked inside and found three eggs! Needless to say I was shocked. I had given up checking it because I was so sure they wouldn't lay til Spring, and they never gave any of the 'signs' that they would be laying soon. No shell-less eggs, no squatting, no new chicken sounds. One of the main lessons I have learned through my recent experiences is that there are no absolute truths when it comes to raising poultry. Just a lot of probably. For example, everything I've read says that chickens lay their eggs usually by 9:00 or 10:00. Not my girls. I've seen them lay in the afternoon, and in fact I went to clean their coop a few days ago and there was Bev, laying an egg. It was 4:00pm.

My 'egg-citement' was short lived however, because I noticed that Mary wasn't acting quite right. I went online to see if I could find any help. Based on the symptoms and the fact that the girls were starting to lay, I was leaning towards a diagnosis of egg binding, a condition where the egg gets stuck inside the chicken. Sounds awful and unfortunately, it can be fatal. I didn't feel an egg inside her when I rubbed her belly, and she was pretty skinny, but I tried the home remedy anyway. At least it wouldn't harm her. I gave her a nice warm bath in my old dish tub. Surprisingly, she really liked it. I rubbed her belly while she soaked and when the water cooled off, I dried her off and wrapped her it a towel and carried her around for a while. The next morning, she acted a little better, scratching and pecking with the other girls. But soon she was off by herself, displaying sick symptoms again. I felt again for an egg, but didn't find one. I went online again to see if there was any information out there. Very few vets will treat a chicken, and I don't have money to run a bunch of expensive lab tests anyway, so I had to rely on home treatments. It seemed there was no definitive diagnosis out in cyberspace. I didn't know what to do except to isolate her and try to get her to eat and drink. I fixed her some "chicken soup" which is made FOR chickens, not FROM chickens, but she didn't really want it. She passed that night. She was such a sweetie, and she was so pretty. I was sad.

The next day, I was giving the flock their scratch and I noticed Bev wasn't joining in on the feast, so I called her, "Kitty kitty!" That's how I call my birds. I think it sounds better than "Chick chick". Bev is almost always that first to come running when I call out. She is so blinded by her crest that I frequently have to lead her around the yard to the food. No Bev, and I started to worry, then I saw her huddled up in the corner of the side yard and my heart sank. She was laying down with her feathers all fluffed up, just like Mary had done. Oh no. I picked her up to comfort her and to my astonishment, uncovered a clutch of five eggs. Bev was setting on a nest of eggs. Whew!! What a relief.

I realize now that there is no such thing as a chicken expert. Chickens are all different and do pretty much what they want. My Easter-egger, Esther, is not sweet and lovable like the 'experts' said she would be. She is a nice bird, but does not want to sit in my lap and be petted. My Polish pullet, Bev, is a prolific layer, even though the experts say Polish are only so-so. And the Dominique hasn't laid yet. Of course, with these short days, I wasn't even expecting any eggs, so they are all welcome surprises.

 

R.I.P. Mary