We have a photo taken just two days ago of our chickens. Little Sweetie is pert, pink in the face and holding herself beautifully. It's a great shock then to find us at the end of today with a little hen grave dug for our lovely hen. We noticed yeterday afternoon that her tail was tucked down and that she was very lethargic and so we isolated her in case it was contagious. As today was a bank holiday (we get the first Monday of May off every year) it meant that only emergency vets were available and just for getting a vet's consultation was £70, before any treatment was discussed. We couldn't justify £70 but then again we signed up to be responsible for any livestock we care for so after discussing it further we made an appointment and took her along. Sadly, with a heart rate over 500 beats a minute she was dead before the fluid which had built up in her abdomen (normally meaning perotonitus but also cancer in chickens - a more common disease than you'd imagine in hens). It was highly unlikely that she would survive but I strongly believe you have to do your best if someone or something relies on you for their wellbeing so all we can think is that we did our best by her and bless - look how happy and healthy she was just two days ago.
She now rests by the hen house with a tribute hydrangea atop of her. As a friend commented when I said the other chicks hadn't seemed to notice her absence, "Yeah, well they are chickens, aren't they?" He's right of course but we've loved all our hens and we miss them. It may seem silly but you can get very attached to this little bombs of feathers. We've had too many jolly times with her to be too sad.
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