This morning, I said goodbye to Silvio and Smudge, as they went off with the ever tolerant husband to their new home. It was a bitter sweet moment, as I was pleased to have found a good home for the little serama boy, but sad to let him go. I hope he has a long, happy life with plenty of ladies to woo.
This afternoon, I stroked Doris as she took her last breath. One of my original hens, she will always hold a special place in my heart. After our weekend away when we sadly lost Hoppy, I came home to find Doris in a bad way. Her breastbone was like a razor, and she had diarrhoea. I gave her a quick bath, and she ate a little from my hand. Doris has always been the greediest of hens, so this lack of appetite was the most damning evidence that she was very, very poorly. I realised that her abdomen was tight and swollen, and with a heavy heart realised that she probably wouldnt get better. Still, I had some Baytril left over from Mabel's illness, and as it was late on sunday night, thought I had nothing to lose. She took herself off in to a quiet corner of the garage, and I really thought she wouldn't make it through the night. So I made her comfortable in a builders bucket with a bed of woodshavings, and left her quiet.
This morning, I found her still alive and drinking. She ate a couple of grains from my hand, but that was it. I dosed her again, hoping that maybe she would rally. However, by lunchtime she was stood with her wings and tail down, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow. Knowing that the end was in sight, I decided not to drag her to the vet, with all the stress that that entails, and just let her pass peacefully. An hour later she was laying down, and while I gently stroked her she passed away.
Goodbye, old friend. You will never be forgotten.