The Housekeeper

I was late letting the girls out this morning. As I stood by the back door pulling on my boots, I witnessed a remarkable thing. At first, I assumed that it was a hen bobbing about in the pop hole. Then, I realised it was newspaper.

The newspaper rustled about a bit as it was wedged through the doorway, before flopping onto the ramp. It was followed out of the coop by Maeve. She fussily pecked at the rubbish, before stepping over it and proceeding to drag it down into the run. Once she had reached the ground, she trundled back up into the coop.

Feeling somewhat bemused, I approached the Convent to find shredded paper all over the run. Maude was engaged in ripping the paper into long strips, an activity she has always enjoyed. I opened the coop door, and peeked inside. Maeve was back on the perch, and gave me the beady eye. She was clearly trying to have a bit of a snooze.

Now I'm left pondering whether the fussy hen has cleaned the droppings from the night before because she was offended by the smell, or taken the paper outside so that Maude wouldn't keep her awake with her frankly mental paper tearing. After ensuring that I wasn't going to bother her further, Maeve turned around on her perch and went to sleep.

Quick update on Mini: The poultry lab called me back to say that they have identified a bacterial infection, and that they should be able to find the best antibiotic to kill it by tomorrow lunchtime. All of the birds will have to be treated.

Little Heartbreaker

Despite regular eye drops, cleaning and wiping, Min's eye shows no improvement. Out of desperation, I have contacted a poultry infection laboratory, and will be sending them swabs tomorrow. They will test for a few different infections, and the hope is that once identified, they can then prescribe the most effective antibiotic. The other possibility is that she has a cyst behind her eye, in which case we're talking surgery. I never thought I would feel so upset about a small, dirty hen.

Today I pulled more of the horrible, rubbery substance from her eye socket. This necessary treatment causes Mini untold stress, and left her gasping. I loathe having to do it, but am hoping that I'm giving her eye a chance at retaining some function. However, at this stage I would happily see her lose the eye if it meant she would have a good quality of life. Plenty of chickens get by with only one eye, and I have no doubt that Mini would cope. She has effectively been one-eyed for nearly 6 weeks now, and has no problem eating, drinking and navigating the garden.

I am trying to be positive about the lab identifying the problem. I cannot even consider surgery without a very heavy heart.