RIP Trumpeter Alice

Farewell, my lovely bird, Trumpeter Alice. You were much loved. I hope you weren't in too much pain at the end, that you didn't suffer greatly. I hope you felt all the love and the peace that surrounded you in your last hours. Thank you for letting me love you and bathe you and connect with you like that. Thank you for looking into my eyes like you did, with so much love. I will always remember you.

Frostbite, Tail Feathers, and Prolapse

So this is turning into a bit of a chicken blog, isn't it! Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. :) Here is a picture of Neil losing the dead bits on his wattles after a bout of frostbite.

Yep, it's kind of gross

The blackened tips hardened up and fell off on their own. I did try putting petroleum jelly on his wattles for awhile, but, although it was a fun way to bond with Neil, it didn't seem to make a difference in terms of frostbite. I think he was getting it from a combination of an open water dish (dipping his wattles in as he drank) and a cold draft coming in through a vent in the coop. We covered up the draft with a nesting box on its side, and he hasn't had anything that bad since! Yay. :)

Whitey Alice and Neil seeing what the weather is like outside the coop

Inside of the coop. Bottom left corner you can see the heated dog dish their water is in.

Here is a picture of Neil soon after he was discharged from the infirmary, with his little sprouts of tail feathers growing back in:

Here is a picture of him now! Still some room to grow that tail, but he looks a lot more like himself now. :) Note the fresh, new wattles:

Are you gonna get that camera outta here, or am I gonna have to make ya? Wattle it be??

Here is Toes Alice (formerly Fatty Alice) and Brownie Alice, all integrated again for at least two months now. It was actually very easy. I expected more pecking and reorganization of the flock, but they all acted like they'd never been separated. :)

The healthy, fluffy butt of Toes Alice (never before looked so good!)

The feathers are sloooowly growing back in on Brownie. See how much weight she's gained! See how much she loves me...? :)

A robust Whitey Alice getting the first crack at the food (she's definitely the top hen!).

Trumpeter Alice, looking a little pecked but nothing too serious. Mostly she just looks like Fatty which is why we now call Fatty, Toes! Can't tell them apart at a glance anymore!

So this brings me to my next chicken issue: prolapsed oviduct! I went out to feed them yesterday, and saw a drop of blood on the snow. I saw Trumpeter had some fleshy protrusion from her vent. Looks like a fairly common thing sometimes referred to as "blowout". Painful sounding, no? I have brought her into the house and set up the infirmary again. Just her, as far as I know. She looked grateful and relieved (and worn out from trying to push out that egg!) when I brought her in. I'm using this link for care, and will update ASAP!
Egg-Laying Troubles for Dummies

Post-Christmas Chicken Update

Merry Christmas! I trust that all of you had an experience...of some sort. :) Our chickens were singing and chatting away for most of the holidays - they were even louder than our dogs! And we had 15 dogs here for a few days!

We put Neil, Whitey Alice and Trumpeter Alice back out into the coop a few days ago. There was a long chinook, so temperatures were mild, and they are only down a few feathers - no open wounds at all. In fact, they look so good, I wish I had taken pictures! But I forgot. Anyway, here is a picture of Neil's "snow angel" when we set him down on the way to the coop.

Toes (Fatty) Alice and Brownie Alice are still in the house, enjoying some free range time in the spare bedroom! Just for a few minutes at a time, but it's pretty fun.
They get to stretch out their wings and run around a bit, pecking at stuff that's been flying out of their crates every day as they forage.

Toes (Fatty) Alice on the mend - only one scab left from the deep dog bite marks

Brownie Alice - feathers growing back in nicely and many layers of skin repaired and healed :) Just a couple more layers to go there... thanks to Derma-gel :)

Chicken update - with photos!

It's been about 5 days since the chickens got attacked by the dog. All of them have not only survived, but have improved quite a bit! Brownie Alice is even laying eggs! Of course, we can't eat these eggs, because we're giving the chickens antibiotics. I would post a link to the stuff we're using but good lord! - it's darn near impossible to find the product on the brand's website. It's like the Pfizer of veterinary medicine or something. Anyway, we just buy it in a pouch at UFA and add it to their water. They seem to like the taste.

Anyway, we are scrambling Brownie Alice's eggs and feeding them to all of them for a little extra protein. They go nuts for it. They also go nuts for cooked oatmeal! I put a tiny dose of meloxicam (Metacam) on a glob of oatmeal and they basically jump me and swallow the glob whole. They look like little piggies with oatmeal all over their beaks. :)

Neil is definitely feeling better. He's starting to peck at our fingers again when we are opening the door to the crate. And all of them are clucking and cooing and singing away several times a day. It's really cute. At night they are sooooo quiet, you would have no idea they're in that room!

In addition to the antibiotics and the topical cream and Dermagel spray, we bought some epsom salts. Apparently chickens really love a warm bath, and epsom salts with help draw out any infection. We'll try it as soon as we're both home at the same time for long enough! :) Here are some pics of their injury sites (taken 2 days ago):

Brownie Alice's bitten back

The bare back of Trumpeter Alice sprayed with Blue-Kote

Whitey Alice's left backside

I will try to get a pic of Fatty Alice too, as her wounds are pretty darn bad. But then, you won't be able to see the before and after - it's pretty dramatic already!

Thanks for reading about the cheeeekins I love so much. :)

Traumatic incident with the chickens

Sounds like a headline more than a blog post title. It feels like a news report, too. Not fun at all. :(

First off, I will give you a picture of the culprit in this story:

Billy Sue, wearing her bear bells and Sport Dog e-collar

It's been in the minus 30's (degrees Celcius), which is like the minus 30's in degrees Fahrenheit, too. One day the internet said we were the coldest place on Earth! Anyway, the chickens were doing okay; we borrowed a heat lamp from Bear Valley Rescue, and got a heated dog dish for their water. Chickens are surprisingly hardy! Birds, as it happens, adapt to the cold temperatures more readily than mammals. There is less perspiration (none, in fact, for chickens!) and they are covered in down, which they can fluff up to trap their body heat against their skin.

Neil and his Alice's basking in the heat lamp's glow

Anyway, with the cold temperatures came a blizzard. Our neighbour said he hadn't seen that much snow in 20 years! The wind was crazy, so there were snowdrifts 4 feet high in some places. 

The drift that we had to shovel through in order to park the truck

The chicken run had a large drift a few feet away from the entrance to the coop, which blocked the view I usually have from the kitchen window.

The drift that cuts right through the chicken run

I left the little square chicken-door open for a couple of hours yesterday because it was really sunny out for the first time in days and days. I didn't think the chickens would actually go outside, but I figured they'd get a smidge of natural light for a bit. I really didn't imagine they would go outside. And I certainly didn't think that Billy Sue would find a way into their yard (our front yard)...

I was wrong. :( Remember that 4 foot high drift out by our truck? Well, it went right over our fence! Billy just climbed right on up and walked along the drift into the yard! How could I forget that drift... :(

I heard an awful sound coming from behind the snow drift, and I realized Billy was missing. I called her name from the front door, and out she popped from behind that drift. She came right to me, and I had to take care of the other dogs inside for a few minutes. I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I went out to the coop and found Trumpeter Alice lying face down in front of the coop entrance, nearly encased in ice (presumably Billy's slobber from a few minutes earlier!). I brought her inside and held her in the bathroom to warm her up. I was relieved her neck didn't seem broken and there was only a tiny bit of blood coming from around her beak.

When my partner came home, we went out to the coop to check on the others. They were all alive, but barely. Neil the Rooster was cowering and missing all his tail feathers. We brought them all inside and checked them out, cleaned them up, and put them in dog crates.

The most grievously injured two are Brownie Alice and Fatty Alice, in far L crate. We put White Alice and Trumpeter Alice in the middle one together (they are less injured), and Neil on his own in the far R crate.

We cleaned the two hens who got the worst of it, just with warm water, and put Dermagel on all of them. They were all eating last we checked, and communicating with each other.

I will keep you updated.

Co-killing with my pal Jupiter

I just partook in a killing with Jupiter, our slightly wolfy dog, who is a natural hunter. He listens with his gigantic, triangular ears. He stalks. He captures, but he doesn't always finish the job, so to speak. He is a bit of a fraidy cat, not to mention a whiner, which is funny because he's so wild in some aspects. He sniffed out a mouse in our backyard along the fence just now. He had a funny look on his face and our daycare puppy was licking at his mouth ecstatically. Jupiter's lips were sealed. I bet on it, and I was right: he had a mouse in there!

Out came the tail, then the hind legs. The poor creature was drowning in drool but nowhere being dead yet. Jupiter dropped it, then jumped back as it began to wriggle and crawl away. He picked it up carefully and tried to chew it, but couldn't seem to stomach it. I felt like I was watching the most recent episode of Survivor. I'm really not sure what stopped him - what stops him. This happened over the course of a couple minutes. I gave him a chance to do the right thing. Finally, however, I decided to step in. The mouse was clearly suffering with no end in sight. I grabbed a nearby metal pot that we use as a sound distraction tool for the dogs, and I made Jupy drop the mouse. I smashed its little head three or four times until I was sure it was dead (i.e. all the guts flew out). I did this with all the love in my heart for the mouse. It was very strange. But I did feel relieved after.

Time is money is lemon difficult!

I'm trying to freelance. I want to be a writer. My days are hectic with the dogs. And now, there is another venture in the household - actually more like two ventures. Mine is writing and freelancing. I am discovering where my biggest problem lies, when it comes to being self-employed - solo, not as a partner.

I am disorganized. Woefully, dreadfully, irreparably devoid of self-organization skills. Since birth? Maybe. Since recovery? Perhaps. Currently? Definitely. You would never guess it if you'd have spotted me behind a desk at one of my previous illustrious jobs as an executive assistant or receptionist. I was praised for being well organized. Inside I had a little chuckle at such kudos.

Well, guess what: I can keep you organized. I am well-versed in keeping my work life and home life separate; that is, when my work life is not in my home. In those situations of yore, I kept my work life neat and tidy and my home life a mess. I lived to go to work. I transformed myself. I might as well have stepped into a red telephone booth on my way to the office.

St. Paul's Cathedral, London, England Case in point: I set out to organize my desk somewhat today. It is quite disheveled and bothersome. I have an interview to participate in via email for a magazine called alive (I will leave out the link right now as it's not yet published or even completed), and I need to gather some of my canine body work materials to answer some of the questions. Do you think I can find my canine body work materials? Actually, I think I can. Scratch that question. Do you think I have room to lay out my materials on the tiny patch of pine table that is my desk? Abso-smurf-ly not! So my mission today was...is... oh dear. Will this blog post even be worth the procrastination? Sigh.

Here I go. Fifteen minutes to feeding time for the 11 dogs, and I decide that now is the best and most appropriate time to begin sorting out my work space and answering interview questions. Ha.

Wish me luck!