Here is a photo of me weeding the rocks around the little pond. Note my companions. Marge is clucking loudly. Lulu is skittering around. Ginger is looking intently at what I’m doing. Looks like a friendly bunch of, what Celia calls under-gardeners, doesn’t it? However, I’m not sure if they’re not simply lazy. They let me do the digging and then they snap up the bugs. This plot of earth yielded little for them to eat, so soon they were on their way, finding yummier things in the grass near the house. As Marge left, she complained loudly that I hadn’t fed her properly.

Honestly, I like having the hens underfoot, and it’s fine that they don’t scratch dirt up into my face. But when I’m working hard out there, it’d be nice to see a little effort on their part.

Oh, and take a look at my big koi. Even she is looking for a hand-out!

We had to put Perrie down today. Knowing when you can’t fix things isn’t always obvious. For example, Buffy is a miracle; I  was sure she’d be dead by now. But, it was worth trying to see if TLC could help. Now, she’s standing and eating and a full member of the flock! I’m willing to feed hens that aren’t producing. Isolate them. Care for them. But sometimes, the right thing to do is to do them in. That was the case with Perrie.

Perrie hadn’t laid one of her beautiful blue eggs for about a month. I thought that she was molting, as hens stop laying when they molt. She lost some tail feathers, but nothing else. She was eating and acting normal. Then, two days ago, I noticed that Perrie had minor diarrhea. Yesterday I noticed that she was sitting on a roost instead of going out on the lawn with the other girls. Although Perrie didn’t show any respiratory distress, the runny poo and the quiet behavior was enough for me to isolate her in a dog crate. I wiped her butt with a paper towel, but didn’t see anything amiss. Decided I’d give her a bath today to clean her up.

Stop reading here if you are squeamish. Trust me. This gets nasty. But I’m going to write about it because it might happen to one of your girls. I’ve had chickens for more than a dozen years, and this is a first for me. Thank goodness for internet searches – I know this isn’t unheard of. But it’s not in the chicken books, either.

Okay, here goes – I picked Perrie up today to look at her vent and right below it was a big gaping hole that was swarming with maggots. Poor hen!

My best guess is that earlier in the month Perrie was egg bound and in the attempt to push it out, tore some of her duct work. Maggots found the dead flesh.  Today she literally burst from it.

What is amazing to me is how a chicken will go on as if she is okay. It’s deadly to a chicken to look weak. She’ll be pecked at or eaten by a predator. Perrie must have been feeling terrible for quite awhile but didn’t let on. Perrie was my most aloof hen. She wasn’t personable. She didn’t keep me company when I gardened. I’d like to think that if it was noisy, friendly Marge who was sick, that I would know sooner. Though I doubt the outcome would have been different.

This is my first experience with an egg bound hen and a first of one with maggots. I hope it’s another decade before I see it again.

I’m going to try to find a couple of Araucana hens to add to the flock. I already miss those gorgeous blue eggs.

I haven’t blogged in six days because for a good chunk of that I’ve been sleeping off medication. Any drug that cautions, “don’t drive, may cause drowsiness” puts me out for hours, so I don’t take even the mildest medication unless I really have to. Last week, not long after posting the July 21 blog about Japanese Beetles, I picked one of them off my peach tree to feed to Edwina (who was watching and waiting). The beetle shoved it’s hind leg barb into my thumb. Quite the effective defensive move. Much to Edwina’s chagrin, I tossed the beetle in the air with a yelp. My thumb was sore for a day, which wan’t too bad. But then I guess the toxin traveled into my bloodstream because I broke out into raised red, itchy welts all over my body, which shifted, like a moving map. Hence the need for antihistamines, which knock me out.

My girls won’t be hand-fed Japanese Beetles anymore!

Candy’s ears are healed and are now as soft as velvet. A cliche, I know, but there are reasons why we use cliches – there are times when they are perfectly descriptive. A fine fur coat is growing where for months there had been dry, scaly, reddened skin. Her ears really do feel like expensive velvet ribbon. I think that Candy must be much more comfortable. Her eye isn’t teary anymore either. All better!

For the last week while having the medication applied, Candy was kept in a stall in the big barn. She had plenty of room to hop, and a concrete slab to stretch out on and stay cool. But she was BORED. Bunnies are naturally curious. Candy especially so. When I opened the stall door, out she’d squeeze to go exploring. You’d think that a rabbit would be cautious in new surroundings. After all, she is the favored food of many other critters. But no, Candy shoved her way out, hopped onto galvanized bins that hold chicken food, peered into corners, and went up to the screen door to say hello to the chickens. I was careful to keep the main barn door securely latched. My barn is safe, but not so the wilds of the yard.

Today I put Candy back in her hutch in the Hencam yard. Perhaps you’ll see her.

Before I had kids, I’d watch parents finish off melting, half-eaten ice cream cones that their toddlers handed them, and I’d think, ewww, I’ll never do that. Of course, I have.

Before I had chickens, I’d never have willingly picked up a Japanese Beetle. Some bugs are pretty. These aren’t. Some bugs are nicely tickly, like inchworms. These have scratchy, prickly feet.

But, my hens love to eat them, and I want to feed them to the girls. Organic pest control AND a free source of protein (have you seen the cost of chicken feed lately?)

The Japanese Beetles like to eat the leaves on the rose that climbs the side of the Hencam coop. They are easy to catch, but when you open your hand to feed the bug to a hen, it flies away. So, what do I do? I shake it in my closed fist to discombobulate it. Then I call the girls over, who come running – they know exactly what is in my hand. Open my palm and those bugs are gone before I can blink- or take the picture.