When your flock comes down with a deadly respiratory ailment you need to treat them fast with something effective. Antibiotics can turn the tide and keep your chickens alive. But, these drugs can also be abused, and they have been, especially by high-volume “farms” that house animals in such unhealthy confines that they resort to putting antibiotics into the drinking water to keep their stock from dying. Bacteria multiply and mutate rapidly, and some will become immune to the medications. Feed antibiotics continuously and you’ll end up creating dangerous pathogens that are impervious to treatment. That has happened already, and to prevent a human health crisis now whole classes of antibiotics are illegal to give on a sub-therapeautic basis (this is a good thing.)

However, the drugs remain available for purchase, and can do much good when handled correctly. Some anitbiotics can only be had through veterinarians, but others can be purchased with ease at feed stores and on-line. Once in private hands, it’s up to the farmer to be careful with their use. The label might say, “for cattle and poultry” but the truth is that they are NOT legal for laying hens. The “for poultry” on the label is inexact – these drugs are approved only for meat and breeding stock, not layers. Backyard chicken keepers use them anyway to save our animals. But, because we use them “off-label” it means that there is little research done on how these drugs persist in the hen and in her eggs. There’s no research on how these drugs, manufactured for huge production facilities, should be appropriately dispensed to our own small flocks. One has to sort through science and trade publications, and then use common sense.

This last week I was grateful to have Duramcyin on-hand to treat my sick hens. No doubt some would have died if I had not dosed them with this antibiotic in the tetracycline family.

The first challenge is knowing how much to mix in water. The label recommends 200 to 400 mg per gallon of water. That wide range is not explained on the package or on the drug company’s website. And, most people don’t have mg measurers. I have a digital scale and calculated that 1/8 teaspoon per 16 fl. ounces (2 cups) is about right. That’s 1 teaspoon per gallon. Not much. After 24 hours, the Duramycin loses it’s efficacy. Every day the founts must be dumped out and filled with fresh antibiotics.

However, even when you get it mixed up properly, putting medication in the waterers will be no good if your hens, like mine, were too sick to drink.

For those chickens, I used a syringe to squirt the medicated water onto their tongues for them to swallow (directions here.) The problem is that the label doesn’t say how much each hen should drink of this antibiotic-laced water. A healthy hen can drink a cup or more of water daily. I can’t get that much in with a syringe. So, I mixed up 1/16 teaspoon Duramycin with a cup of water and dosed a few teaspoons over the course of the day with a syringe. By nightfall I saw marked improvement, so I knew that it was the right course.

Not all respiratory disease outbreaks can be resolved with Duramycin. Some require other antibiotics, and others are caused by viruses, which are unaffected by antibiotics. If there is no improvement in three days it is suggested that you stop the treatment and try something else. Tylan and Baytril are two other antibiotics that might work.

Then the question is: how long do you treat the hens? The package recommends “7 – 14 days.” That’s another wide range! If the hens are all fine by day 7 it is prudent to stop.

Hopefully, the hens survive and the big question beomes: when can you resume eating the eggs? The USDA has a website that farmers can rely on to check on drug withdrawal times. Although they can’t give out information for off-label usage, they have posted a review of the research of how long drug residues are seen in eggs after drug treatment has stopped. There’s a lot of data to wade through, and I did my best to come to a sensible course.

I’ve heard the concern that because the hen has all of her ova already in place, that drug exposure will contaminate her eggs for life. This is not the case. The germ is minute. It is the yolk that forms around that bit that absorbs the drugs. (Some chemicals are taken up more by the whites. It depends on the drug.) The yolk goes through about ten days of rapid growth before it is released by the ovary. This paper states: “Because of the protracted nature of egg development, many weeks may be required following treatment or exposure before eggs are free of drug residue.” The lab tests bear this out. Scientists varied the dosage and length of time that antibiotics were administered. In tests that compared somewhat to what my chickens were dosed with, their eggs were clear of residues by day 10. To be on the safe side, I’ll wait two weeks after my hens take their last drink of antibiotic water before eating their eggs.

While the hens are on medication, I’ll scramble up their eggs and feed them back to the chickens. They could use the boost from the eggs. Once off the meds, sadly, I will throw the eggs out. And then, two weeks later, I will be delighted to collect eggs and resume having two every morning for breakfast. Of course, by then, some hens will be going into the molt and eggs will be precious. When you raise your own, the egg supply is never steady!

This morning Opal was no longer standing hunched in a corner. She was out and about with the flock.

Her eyes were open enough that she could see her way to the font and have a drink of medicated water, which means I won’t have to dose her today – a relief for both of us. What’s odd about this disease is that one side of the head is more affected than the other. The first day, when perhaps only one hen is stricken, you’ll find her with one eye clear, but the other shut. It does at first appear to be an eye injury, or perhaps a wasp sting? But at the end of 24 hours, listen, and you’ll hear mucus-clogged breathing. Some hens in your flock might not be affected at all, and some, get hit hard and like Opal, will die within a day if not attended to. Fortunately for my flock, the symptoms burst on the scene just hours before I left on vacation. If I’d gone, there would be four or five dead hens right now. But, luck was with them. My plans were flexible. I could stay home and care for my chickens. Still, it was touch and go for Opal, which is why this morning I was so very pleased to see that she was able to open both eyes to stride outside with the flock. She’s definitely on the way to recovery. But my work is not entirely done. Her left eye doesn’t stay open for long. I squirted another bit of terramycin on it. Onyx’s eye, too, needed some care.

But, that’s no big deal. I thought that I might lose one or two, or more, hens to this outbreak, and they will all recover. And so far, despite it being extremely contagious, the pullets are fine. What a relief.

I’m doing research into when, after being medicated with antibiotics, that their eggs will be safe to eat. It’s taking some time and sleuthing, but I’ve found some research and science-based guidelines. Stay tuned for that post.

Last night when I closed up the barn, I was cautiously optimistic that the birds were out of imminent danger. That afternoon I’d been able to feed the two with the most severe symptoms, Amber and Florence, some scrambled egg (feeding back the eggs I’d otherwise have to throw out.) (Notice the jealous healthy hens on the other side of screen door.)

But, despite my attempts, Opal was too sick to eat. I gave the hens that were still lethargic and with mucous-veiled eyes another dose of antibiotics. I use this. Getting a teaspoon of liquid laced with antibiotics into a hen that isn’t strong enough to drink on her own is enough to make a difference.

This morning, when I went out to the Big Barn, I breathed a sigh of relief. Amber, who stood in misery with her eyes squeezed shut yesterday, was clear-eyed and quickly hurried away from me. (I’m now that awful person who pries open her mouth and squirts in water. She doesn’t seem to remember the delicious egg.)

Both Rhode Island Reds looked normal and were eating with gusto. Ruby, here seen in the front, was the first to get sick and appears to be fully recovered.

Onyx still has a gummy eye, but is otherwise on the upswing. Florence is also much improved. Only Opal continues to struggle. She stands in the corner, which is a protective pose that a hen will intuitively take when ill.

None of the Gems are bothering her. They are a peaceful flock. But yesterday I saw Siouxsie try to bully Opal. Siouxsie snaked out her neck once and pecked at Opal. Right away, Jasper went for Siouxsie and put a stop to it. The Gems don’t put up with bad behavior. What a great flock this is! Usually I’m drawn to individuals, but in the case of the Gems it’s how they function as a whole that impresses me. I’m so relieved that this illness isn’t go to decimate this group.

I’m still babying Opal along. She’s beginning to open her eyes. I’m going to go scramble her an egg.

The respiratory disease that started with Ruby has spread to five other hens: Opal, Garnet, Onyx, Florence and Amber. Garnet came down with a fairly mild case, and rebounded after a half day on antibiotics. Onyx, so far, has also had a comparatively easy time of it. She is broody, and only one eye is affected. She’s drinking, but since she’s not coming out of her nesting box, I dosed her, too. Opal has it the worst. Her eyes are sealed shut, and she spent all day yesterday standing in the corner of the pen. She cannot see well enough to drink her medication or eat. I’ve been dosing her with antibiotics mixed with water, and have treated her eyes, but after a full day of that, she showed no sign of improvement. Honestly, I didn’t think she’d make it through the night, but she did.

Florence is the only one of the Speckled Sussexes that is sick. It does appear as if some hens are immune. Edwina and Siouxise, both exposed to something similar two years ago, are fine. But why only Florence, of three hens the same age, breed and background is affected, I’ve no clue. There she is in the middle, eyes closed, listening but not able to see or eat.

Florence is severely skinny. Her keel bone juts out. The other sick hens are also much lighter than they should be. It makes me wonder whether, if at the beginning of the illness, before I saw the signs, that the hens had already stopped eating. I dosed Florence and treated that shut eye with terramycin ointment. Having both eyes open is essential, as a hen can’t find her food with only one working eye. More on that tomorrow!

Amber is also sick. She stands hunched and miserable. I treated her as well.

Despite their lethargy and obvious discomfort, none of the hens like having their heads held and their beaks opened and liquid squirted into their mouths. Amber put up the worst fuss, with head thrashing and kicking and pathetic gurgling from the congestion in her sinuses. I did it anyway, which, despite all of the hen’s histrionics, was the right thing to do. They’re all improving. Except for Opal. But, she’s not dead yet. Chickens have an amazing ability to heal. She just might pull through.

Meanwhile, there’s no sign of respiratory disease in the Little Barn. As soon as I realized that this ailment was not limited to Ruby, I immediately instituted biosecurity. The germs could travel to the young flock on my shoes (especially in manure on the soles) and on my clothes. My son is now the delegated caregiver for the Little Barn. He wears clothes and shoes that do not carry germs from the Big Barn.He’s not allowed into the Big Barn, not even to pet the goats.  I don’t go into the pen or inside the enclosure with the healthy flock. We’re keeping our fingers crossed that this will safeguard their health and that the young girls will stay free from disease.

There’s a new book out titled Chickens in Five Minutes A Day. There are days like that. Sometimes. But the book never mentions the other days, like the one I’ve had here. You have to be willing to do the days that take fifty minutes. Once in awhile, the days run to five hundred minutes. When you commit to having animals in your care, that’s the way it is.

Friday morning, when I opened up the Big Barn, Ruby remained on the roost. Obviously something was amiss. She was hunched, tail down, and one eye was swollen shut.

The other eye was clear,

but when she blinked, Ruby looked the image of misery.

The other Gems were bright-eyed and energetic. So, I do what I always do when there is a sick hen, I isolated Ruby and observed. Her comb felt feverish to the touch. I cleaned her face off with a cold, wet washcloth so that I could have a better look at her eye. It was so swollen that at first it looked to me like it had been pecked. Perhaps this was an injury?

I got out the broad-spectrum antibiotics, trade name Duramycin, which is available here in the States over the counter at feed stores. It is not approved for layers, but everyone uses it off label. I’ll be writing an entire post later this week about it. I mixed up 2 cups of water with 1/16 teaspoon of the powdered medicine.

Because Ruby couldn’t see well enough to drink, and because I wanted to get the drugs in her right away, I dosed her with a syringe. I have directions and a YouTube video of how to do this here.

I had some Terramycin eye ointment leftover from an injury to Scooter’s eye. I’ve kept it in the fridge, and although it’s well past expiration date, it is still useful. (You can buy this online, but there’s currently a shortage.) I squeezed a bit into Ruby’s crusty eye.

Within two hours, Ruby’s eye was looking better, I could see that this wasn’t an injury, but rather that I had a respiratory infection to treat. I’ve seen this here before. Hens have died from it. I’m not going to put a name on the disease. Unless you send a blood sample to a lab, you cannot identify whether it is Mycoplasma, or something else. I’ve paid for the lab tests in the past (quite expensive!) and know this for a fact. Those on-line charts identifying one disease from another are not accurate. What I also know is that by the time the tests come back half of your flock can be dead. Also, regardless of the tests, the treatment is the same. If you’re lucky, it’s bacterial in nature and antibiotics will be effective.

Luckily for Ruby, by midday she was able to eat, and drink her Duramycin-laced water. It was hot, and she was feverish, so I put her into a wire pen for air flow.

By Sunday afternoon, Ruby’s comb no longer felt hot, her eyes looked clear, and she was ready to go back in with the flock.

I think that perhaps the onset of this was instigated by the bout with infectious bronchitis. Secondary bacterial infections are cited in the literature as a frequently occurring after iB. I’d hoped that since Ruby had what seemed the worst case of iB, as seen by her laying eggs that look like this:

that she’d be the only hen affected. Unfortunately, when I went into the barn this morning, four hens were standing in abject misery with their eyes closed. I’ve treated all of them, and now the entire flock in the Big Barn are on antibiotics. There’s no sign of disease yet in the Little Barn, but I am watching carefully. My family and I were going to go on a 3-day vacation today, but we will be staying home. I can’t leave the hens like this, and I can’t ask my petsitter, who also has chickens, to care for them and then expose her own flock to disease.

I’d be guessing, and likely guessing wrong, if I blamed this bout of disease entirely on iB, or on wild birds, or a friend’s bringing it in on her shoes. I’ve had chickens on this property now for ten years. Diseases lurk. This is why pastured poultry farmers have mobile tractors – fresh ground reduces the risk of disease. That’s not an option in backyards. My hens are in ideal conditions, and yet they still get sick. Have a flock for any length of time and this will likely happen on your property, too.

I’ll be posting more this week about how the chickens are doing. Two years ago I lost my favorite hen, Lulu, to a similar outbreak. I’m hoping that I’ve caught this in time. Opal is not looking good. But I’ll do my best.