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Archive for the ‘Health and Ailments’ Category

We are immensely proud to announce that Miss Effie Chicken of Rosewarne has been awarded The Amazing Animal of the Month Award by Good News Shared. She was nominated by the lovely people at Compassion in World Farming, who after reading Effie’s tale fell in love with her. And who wouldn’t!

Effie is an amazing ambassador for ex-battery hens and her story has inspired many lovely people to rehome their own ex-batts. She has shown what big hearts and huge personalities hens have and every person that realises this and has their own hens or stops eating chicken or only uses free range eggs is a victory in the battle against intensive farming.

This award means her story will reach a whole new audience so I would ask you to share the following link as far and wide as you can, so that Effie’s work to help her caged sisters can continue:

http://goodnewsshared.com/effie/

Thank you xx

Effie sends you all a kiss xxx

Effie sends you all a kiss xxx

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I write, post and tweet extensively about my girls, so that people can see what amazing creatures hens are and what travesties some humans are inflicting on them. However, for the past few weeks, there has been a hen living with us here at Rosewarne who I have not been able to talk about publicly. Very sadly, this week she passed away so I am now able to tell her story ….

A few days after the passing of our darling Larkspur Chicken, we were on our way to Truro, only to see a chicken on the verge at the side of the road. Screeching to a halt and jumping out we managed to catch her (thank goodness it was a Sunday and quiet or there may have been more than one fatality) and cradling her in my arms we set about trying to find where she came from. During our investigations of nearby houses, I noticed this little girl was very, very thin, had swollen sinuses, was filthy, very smelly and deeply, deeply stressed. Initial investigations proved fruitless and by this time I had already come to a decision made up from a few facts:

This was a sick chicken who needed care.
There was no frantic owner searching for her.
She was starving and filthy and ill. Contagiously ill.
She was almost certainly a commercial hen.
She may have escaped from the nearby poultry farm or the slaughter lorry, she may just have escaped her careless owners or, more worryingly, was thrown out because she was ill and was at risk of passing infection onto the rest of the flock.

This thought process did not take long, so we climbed straight back into the car and headed home, our new girl still cradled in my arms. Right or wrong, she stood the best chance of survival with us – we had a cupboard full of medicines and supplements and the facilities to care for her.

But we made the conscious decision not to mention her to anyone in case an owner came forward – because quite frankly whoever they were did not deserve her.

She took up residence in our greenhouse, the large cat carrier made into a ‘coop’ and an area outside fenced off for her so she could enjoy the grass and Cornish air. She tucked into her mash like a girl possessed and I had high hopes that a few days’ tlc and good food would make her better.

With Larkspur’s sad passing fresh in our hearts, we thought she should be an honorary L-girl, so Lichen she became. Following on from the floral L theme, but slightly different.

Lichen, my foundling

Lichen, my foundling

After a couple of settling in days we went to see Uncle Jason. Lichen’s sinuses were swollen and puffy, although there was no foam in her eyes. Jason agreed with my continuing the combination of baytril and tylan and keeping her separate from the others as she was almost certainly contagious. Over the next two weeks she continued to be interested in her food and paced her fence impatiently when I appeared with treats for all the girls. She usually took herself off to bed early and we tucked a blanket over her cat carrier, even though it was snugly ensconced in the greenhouse, for extra warmth. Every supplement and vitamin I had at my disposal was given to her in the hope of getting her well. We even put lavender flowers, and lavender and eucalyptus essential oils in her ‘coop’ to help boost her immune system and clear her sinuses.

Aside from her supplement-laden mash, she also discovered a love for corn, egg, pasta and couscous! Not to mention a few breakfast-time quails eggs.

However, after a fortnight, she was not making the progress I hoped she would be. Her swollen face was reducing fractionally but she was slowing down, eating less and she was spending more and more time asleep, with her head tucked under her wing. She was also having trouble seeing, so I put her mash and treats in bright green bowls so she could see them. All in all, it was not looking good.

Most tellingly though, after three weeks of good food, extensive tlc and minimal exercise she had lost 100g, weighing in at 1.1kg, almost half what an ex-batt should weigh. She was wasting away and we could not find the reason why. But we carried on in the hope that something would work.

But things quickly took a downwards turn. She absolutely hated taking her medicine and struggled and squirmed each time but the day she stopped fighting us, I knew she had stopped fighting completely. I bathed her on Sunday morning as she would not preen herself and she stood there up to her tummy in bubbles, a fragile fairy, unresponsive and uninterested. I wrapped her in a towel and snuggled her into me, willing her to find the strength to fight. But there was nothing left in her to fight. By Monday she could barely stand and I knew that it was time.

At the vets, she passed away very quickly, going straight to sleep in my arms, and within minutes she had left us. I sensed as her last breath left her body, and felt privileged to see this girl safely pass from this world to the next, where I hope she can fly free, her body forever strong and healthy.

Beautiful Lichen

Beautiful Lichen

On retrospect was I right to rescue her? Not from an ownership point of view, I have no qualms over that one – had she been a loved and cared for girl, I would have left no stone unturned to reunite her with her owner. But from her point of view, after all she is all that matters. Would it have been better to leave her on the road that day– she would almost have certainly died instantly and within minutes. Maybe I prolonged her suffering by taking her home with me??

I don’t know the answer to that one but I do know that seeing an animal somewhere where they should not be and in grave danger meant I could not leave her there. My reaction to seeing her in the road was a natural instinct; to protect her. And I am sure anyone reading this blog would have done the same. And as my darling Gary says, “No-one else stopped. No-one else tried to help her.”

All I can hope was that she knew I loved her and that she knew she was safe and cared for. I take some slight solace in the fact that she could be ill in peace, she was warm and dry and comfortable and that she could sleep safely at night, and eat as much as she wanted. And now she has a name and her story has been told; she was here and she mattered.

We cremated her with the last lavender flower of the season (she was an L girl to the end) under her wing and her ashes are buried with those of the sisters she never knew but who I know will be taking care of this angel at the Rainbow Bridge.

RIP Lichen Chicken, my foundling. Fly high little hen xxx

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Dame Effie of Rosewarne, ex-batt ambassador extraordinaire and international superstar has had an ear infection. ‘Do hens have ears?’ someone asked me. Well yes of course they do, it is just they are not very obvious. But this was a first for Effie and a first for me. No matter how much you think you know about hens, these girls will always find something to make you realise just how much you still have to learn.

I had noticed some liquid on the side of Effie’s head, not far from her eyes, which looked as though her ear was weeping. She had been quiet of late but after having two implants in close succession, that was to be expected. She had also taken to spending much time in the Human Coop, but Effie considers herself a human anyway so again it was not unusual. But put it all together and it meant a visit to Uncle Jason.

Ever the professional vet, Uncle Jason was fascinated by Effie’s ear (it was a first for him too) and excitedly took swabs to have a look at! His results showed she had a bacterial infection, so baytril was prescribed, as usual, and we went home ready to tackle the ear-fection.

Dame Effie looking gorgeous as ever

Dame Effie looking gorgeous as ever

Now Effie has many talents, most of them very good, but one particular talent she has is spitting. She can spit food, she can spit greens (‘Effie, don’t eat the sweet peas, you don’t like them…’ munch…spit) and she can projectile spit medicine very impressively indeed! So a Cunning Plan had to be devised. It came in the form of some manuka honey (nothing is ever too good for our girl) which, when dissolved in a little warm water and added in equal measures to the baytril, produced something Miss Effie actually liked. Naturally, this does not mean we didn’t have games of ‘Catch the Effie’ or ‘Find the Effie’ when it comes to medicine times but, once caught, she happily has her medicine.

However, after the first course of antibiotics finished, the weeping started again the next day. So a second course was prescribed, but again, as soon as the drugs stopped, the ear started to weep. Effie did not seem unduly unwell in herself, was eating heartily (quails egg for breakfast dahhhrling…) and was doing everything a happy, healthy girl should be doing. So a second swab was taken and this time sent to the lab for an in depth analysis.

The lab found ‘mixed growth’ in her precious ear – two nasties competing. One had been clobbered by the baytril, the other needed something else. So Synolux (erythromycin) was prescribed – two tablets twice a day.

So how to you get a hen to eat a tablet that is almost as large as her head??

Eventually we settled on crushing it, dissolving it in 2ml of water and schlurping it back into the syringe. A fiddle, especially at 7am, but miraculously it worked! And even more miraculously Effie loved the taste! She opened her little beak for more and almost seemed to enjoy it. I expect the diva in her also appreciated the bright pink colour!!

So now, with the magic pink pills finished, Effie’s ear-fection has not returned. She is back to her naughty, happy, gorgeous, beautiful, wonderful self! And we are busily making great plans for 19th December, when a certain little lady celebrates being three years’ free!!

Yes Effie, I love you too xxx

Yes Effie, I love you too xxx

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Today is a very Happy Day as the Rosewarne ladies are celebrating Miss Greta Goodchicken’s two year Henniversary!!

Two years ago, Miss Greta Chicken, arrived to live with us, one of three poorlie girls from a rescue. She had a big, bare, swollen bottom and was very waddly and worryingly heavy. After letting her settle down for a few days after the trauma of rehoming, we visited Uncle Jason who confirmed it was a mass of scar tissue from an infection in the farm. She was prescribed frusemide to reduce the fluid and within a few days she was much less waddly and far more mobile!

Greta was a very good sister to her two fellow poorlies, very sick Gina who sadly passed away soon after rehoming, and Grace Kelly, the little hen with a prolapse. Greta was beak cleaner extraordinaire and, due to the fact that a very good, gentle and loving heart was beating in her beautiful body, she was soon awarded the much-coveted title of Goodchicken; a prestigious honour awarded to only the very kindest of hens.

Birthday Girl Greta Goodchicken

Birthday Girl Greta Goodchicken

When Greta and Gracie moved into Henderlay with the Big Girls, they stayed the best of friends and were always together. When Gracie passed away very suddenly, the other girls were quick to take Greta under their wings and now she is part of a very naughty but close-knit and sweet trio who spend their days gleefully trashing my garden and terrorising the cats! Due to her bottom issues, Greta has never laid an egg since her rehoming but that doesn’t stop her going into the nest box after an egg has been laid by someone else, sitting on it for a while and then proudly proclaiming it is hers! So we all pretend we don’t know that and tell her what a clever girl she is!

From time to time she has a course of frusemide to stop the fluid building up, but otherwise she is a healthy and happy little girl; a worthy holder of the Goodchicken name. She is however, still knickerless with a larger than average bottom, but as I tell her, big bottoms are in! She is my bootylicious babe and I tell her she is beautiful every day!

Sweetest Girl Greta Goodchicken

Sweetest Girl Greta Goodchicken

She dined on quails eggs for her breakfast (what else?!) and in the evening the celebrations got into full swing with everyone enjoying her special Henniversary cakes. And now the partygoers are snuggled up in their coops, crops blissfully full of mealworm cakes, we humans will light two candles for Gina and Gracie who are not here to celebrate with us anymore.

Two years’ free is an amazing achievement for even a healthy ex-batt. For a poorlie girl with a swollen bottom, it is quite remarkable. But Greta is a Goodchicken and she deserves only Good Things.

Happy Henniversary sweetheart xx

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Little Larkspur Chicken arrived to live with us on 16th August, one of three very poorlie girls from a traumatic rescue. She was one of the lucky ones, she survived long enough to be rescued, and along with her new sisters, Lavender and Lupin, came down to Rosewarne for some special care.

She was named after my wonderful friend, Liz’s dearly departed ex-batt and I hoped that Liz and her lovely husband Mike could enjoy seeing their girl’s name live on in my Larkspur.

Initially, Larkpsur seemed the most healthy of the three girls. The only one with feathers, she set about beak cleaning her two new featherless sisters and seemed quite content with her new life, if a little quiet. She was a gentle soul, she had suffered a great deal in the cages and her new life would take a little getting used to.

Larkspur on rehoming day

Larkspur on rehoming day

However, as the two baldies started to develop and blossom, it became clear that Larkspur was not blooming with them. She was still quiet, but hunched and not eating very much. An initial veterinary examination found nothing untoward and Larkspur was given the usual baytril to help kill any potential lurking infection. She was malnourished and, I believe, traumatised from her experiences and I desperately wanted to give her something to fight for; to help her see the wonderful free life that awaited her.

She responded well at first and within a week had become the happy little chicken I hoped she would be. She ate plenty, went to bed with a full crop and a mashy beak and tucked up in the nestbox with her new best friend Lavender, whilst self-appointed top hen, Lupin, guarded the door. She took a dustbath and paced the fence impatiently in the hope of treats whenever I went into the garden. Things were going so well, that I dared to hope we had beaten whatever it was that had ailed her.

However, a few days later I noticed she had become quiet again, she was listless and not eating. So back on the meds we went in the hope that any infection just needed an extra thwack to completely knock it out. And it did, she was soon back to Healthy Larkspur, doing everything a free chicken should be doing.

When she was feeling well, Larkspur loved her mash!

When she was feeling well, Larkspur loved her mash!

To supplement her medicine, she had a range of vitamins, health foods, digestive aids and treats in a bid to give her body the boost it obviously needed. She was however, starting to slide back down into ill health again and no matter what I tried she would not respond.

Looking back there were clear signs and in my heart I knew we were not dealing with a mere infection. The medicine was just masking something very sinister lurking in her poor tired little body. I told myself when we went to visit the vet on that last day that it was just a check-up. She had been dozing in the sun all day (the Cornish weather had, for once, been mercifully kind to these girls) and she put up no resistance as I put her into the carrier.

Gina, our lovely vet, found a large tumour in Larkspur’s abdomen and the yellow colour I had told myself was because she had been eating corn, was in fact sky high bilirubin levels, indicating her liver was failing. Looking at her though Gina’s eyes, I suddenly saw how very sick she was, I had been too close, too intent on small details and not seeing the bigger picture. Her body was shutting down and her organs were failing. Sadly, there was only one option and as we awaited Gina and the medicine, Larkspur snuggled into my arms, quite content as I stroked her feathers gently. I believe she knew – she had tried so hard, I had tried so hard, but her scars from her caged life were just too deep. We could not win this battle, no matter how desperately we wanted to. Her passing was peaceful, she stayed where she was in my arms and just drifted off to sleep. The very least I could give her was a dignified death.

Little Larkspur, looking gorgeous and fighting hard

Little Larkspur, looking gorgeous and fighting hard

She was cremated with pink flowers under her wings and we watched as her spirit soared heavenwards, finally free of pain, she could now fly high with her Rosewarne sisters – I could feel Bella and Bunty Goodchicken waiting to greet her. Because she was the sweetest, gentlest of souls she has been awarded the posthumous title of Goodchicken – awarded to only the very best of girls.

Larkspur Goodchicken did not deserve to die so soon. She was a victim of a cruel system, her caged life was one of suffering, her body abused … and all for what? She had done nothing wrong, she did not deserve the life she had or the fate that awaited her. Every hen deserves to be free – free of pain and suffering, free to do just as she wishes and free from the abuses some humans inflict on them. Nothing I could do could save her from that, and I tried so hard to save this sweet, sweet girl. And Larkspur had wanted to live so much, she fought with her big, brave heart but in the end her broken little body could fight no more. I could not give her the long free range retirement that she should have been able to enjoy.

But what I could give her was six weeks of freedom; she knew love (such love), she knew sunshine and friendship, she scratched the grass and she bathed in the dust, she foraged for worms and she pecked at corn. It is nowhere near enough, six weeks of freedom in return for two years of suffering, but I hope she knows how hard I tried for her.
Godspeed little Larkspur Goodchicken – forever in our hearts, darling girl. RIP angel, fly high little hen xxxx

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It has been four weeks since Misses Larkspur, Lupin and Lavender came to live with us. And I am pleased to report that all three are blossoming!

Lupin, (Loops to her friends) is top hen and in charge of her little flock. At first she tried to round up Gary and I at bedtime to put us safely to bed in the coop, before forgetting what she was doing and falling asleep in the run! Now, however, she has her top hen duties all sewn up and gets her girls into bed every evening before tucking herself up just inside the door, guarding her friends. She is a real sweetie, always first to the food she also helps me poo pick, usually by standing on my feet or on the poop scoop and has been very busy growing her beautiful new feathers. Obviously highly intelligent, she was the first to work out the dustbath, although she actually had her bath next to the dustbath in the wood shavings, but let’s not be too picky!

Top Hen Lupin, looking gorgeous with her new feathers

Top Hen Lupin, looking gorgeous with her new feathers

Little Lavender is a beautiful girl with a beautiful heart. She has befriended little Larkspur and takes the greatest care of her. It never fails to amaze me, that in spite of all they have endured at the hands of humans, ex-batts are so trusting and friendly. Little Lavender especially so. She comes running to me each time I am in the run and loves to eat out of my hand. She will nestle at my feet and follows me around. Her feathers are growing so well, she is going to be a stunner!

Little kind-hearted Lavender, feathers growing

Little kind-hearted Lavender, feathers growing

Larkspur, the most feathered of the girls, has had a long hard battle to get where she is today. A visit to the vets found nothing nasty lurking, she was just emaciated and traumatised. We have tried everything we can for her, anti-biotics just in case and numerous mineral supplements to give her a boost. She has finally discovered a love of food, especially corn, and at the moment anything that she is happy to eat is fine by me! She discovered the dustbath yesterday and had a gloriously long bath and today she was shouting at me impatiently for her treats. She was also chirruping when she found a tasty worm. These are all small but important steps in her rehabilitation and whilst I am watching her very closely, I am cautiously optimistic our girl will pull through.

Little Larkspur, looking gorgeous

Little Larkspur, looking gorgeous

Every day, I am still grateful that our three L girls are enjoying their free range life. With poorlies, it is often touch and go for a long time after rehoming, but they are fighting hard and I am fighting for them.

Little angels, may their free range lives be long and happy.

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On Saturday, three very special but very poorlie girls came to live with us. Many poorlies taken from a very traumatic and upsetting rehoming* had been nursed by their rescuer and three of these girls, those that were thought strong enough to make the journey to us, arrived in the afternoon and were whisked into the comfort of their new home.

Larkspur (named after my lovely friend Liz’s dear departed girl) was the most feathered hen and set about cleaning the beaks of the other two.

Lovely Larkspur

Lovely Larkspur

Lavender was almost featherless and possibly the smallest hen I have ever seen.

Little Lavender

Little Lavender

Lupin had about four more feathers than Lavender and started to eat as soon as she saw food! She has continued to eat, her crop bulging each evening before she goes to bed.

Lovely Lupin

Lovely Lupin

I had forgotten the state of the ex-caged hens and these three really were in a desperate condition. Starved before the rescue as they were due for slaughter, each one was emaciated, traumatised and suffering physically and mentally from their abuse.

Watching as they ate and ate and then stood sleeping, overcome by their situation, was heartbreaking. Seeing them tentatively test the strange, soft grass beneath their feet and gaze in wonder at the blue sky was amazing but watching as they stretched out in the sunshine for the first time reduced me to tears. As did Lavender’s egg…how could a girl so tiny possibly produce an egg? The abuse forced on these pitiful scraps all in the name of cheap food is unforgiveable. I asked her to stop laying and rest her body, but in the meantime fed the egg back to them.

48 hours on and both Lavender and Lupin are eating well, have become more vocal and active, and are generally improving greatly. It is amazing what food, fresh air and a comfy bed can do for a girl!

However, it is Larkspur that is causing me the most concern. She is not eating and spends most of her time hunched over and dozing. We have syringed food into her – a ‘tasty’ concoction of egg, live yoghurt, honey, mash and spinach – and encouraged her to eat some of Lavender’s egg. She has had a bath and despite being a tiny bit fluidy in the abdomen area, has nothing else that is obviously wrong with her. I do not know if she is depressed, has cage fatigue or has something more sinister underlying. When I have exhausted my knowledge I will take her to the vets but I do not want to stress her out unduly unless I have to. But I am worried and I wish her godspeed each evening, just in case. If I was religious I would pray for her to pull through, but I am not, so I am hoping her desire to live is greater than anything else and that two days in the sunshine are enough to make her realise her life is worth living and that she is now loved and safe. Fight hard little girl xxxx

Larkspur and Lavender feeling the sun on their feathers for the first time

Larkspur and Lavender feeling the sun on their feathers for the first time

And my thoughts on the farmer that caused this suffering (contains strong language):

*The farmer had starved the hens as they were going to slaughter – disgustingly, something not that uncommon – and the hens that died were left in the cages with the live hens. So my dear friend took as many poorlies as she could out of the cages. Of the hens she did manage to save, some were so emaciated they had to be put to sleep, some were so ill with egg peritonitis and other diseases they had suffered with in the cages (undetected and untreated) they also had to be put to sleep, some had lost their will to live and gave up, and a few, just a small percentage of those poorlies saved from that hellhole, have made it so far. All this despite as much care, love and medical assistance as it is possible to give.
In no society, for any reason and most certainly not in the name of farming, is this abhorrent abuse acceptable. Hens are sentient creatures that have a wide range of emotions – including love, pain and fear. I am angry, I am so bloody angry that some human…many humans…think they can abuse animals in this way, make money from it and think they are above the law. Well, they aren’t. Some farmers may think they are untouchable, that the NFU’s hold over Defra and this sorry excuse for a government means they are exempt from any sort of retribution but there are other laws – laws of karma and of the universe and somehow, somewhere these bastards will get their comeuppance. This abuse will stop and I for one will not rest until it does.

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