Goodbye

There's something therapeutic about being the one to dig the hole for a deceased pet.

Not an hour ago, I made the decision to euthanize our oldest pet, Leila.  The 'queen bee' of the house, she was the feisty old lady of our menagerie.  We noticed her appetite decreasing and she was losing weight.  After bribing her with wet food and tuna over the weekend, we decided that a vet trip was needed.  She'd always been a lean cat, and her weight loss troubled both Papa B and myself.  She barely registered on the scale at the vets - she was five pounds on the nose.  Her previous weight was eight pounds, so it was a significant change over the past weeks.  The vet determined her kidneys were not just in failure, they had shut down completely.  He could have given her fluids and electrolytes which would have perked her up, but her age and the numbers from her blood work did not point to a happy outcome.

The vet tech was kind and brought in a tub of toys for Girl C to play with while I went to be with Leila. A quick needle jab and a few scratches under her chin and she crossed the rainbow bridge in peace and comfort.

It's hard explaining to a child about life and death.  I decided to be matter of face with Girl C and I told her that Leila was too sick to be alive anymore.  I could see her trying to process this information of what 'alive' meant.  And, as children do, said to me in a soft, yet profound voice, "Let's bring her home."

And that we did.

It's cold out today and I picked out a sunny spot between two trees to bury her.  The chickens did their part and were pecking at the worms in the overturned soil.  I have never dug a hole large enough for an animal larger than a hamster, so I was sort of proud of myself for this hole.  My hands were cold from the wind, and I unwrapped Leila from the towel that the vet wrapped her in.  And, as if she  knew I had done this last act of love for her, she was still warm in my cold hands and she gently warmed them for me.  I gave her one last nuzzle and arranged her in her final resting place and committed her body to the ground.

Rest easy, Leila.

Now my chickens aren't organic.

So, it had come to my attention that my Facebook posts were becoming too, shall we say, unsavory for public consumption?  Most people found what I had to say funny, albeit a little gross.  Which is totally my intention.

But for this little glimpse into my life, I thought a medium where folks could choose to read about it would be my best bet.

One of our chickens, Cassiopeia (Cassie for short), all of a sudden was refusing to roost.  She would climb into the nesting box and sleep there.  The problem with this was she would poop in the box and the other hens wouldn't want to go lay in there.  We tried blocking off her access to the boxes at night, but she would huddle in a corner and still not roost.  Then she got limpy.  I immediately suspected bumblefoot, but she never developed any abcesses.  I was stumped.  She would limp and flap around and generally hop along with the other girls.  She was still laying and eating.

But today we decided to bring her inside for a little R&R and some electrolytes and probiotics.  I inspected her feet again and thought I saw the nigglings of bumblefoot, so I drew Cassie a warm epsom salt bath.  When I picked her up, I noticed the odor.  A very distinct odor of infection, and then I saw her little claw (do chickens have dew claws?) was torn.  So, I plopped Cassie in the bath and she soaked nicely for about 20 minutes.  I wrapped her up in a towel and then inspected her toe again.  The toe was hanging on by a little bit of tendon, and we knew we had to amputate.  I held Ms. Cassie in the towel and Papa B did the surgery.  She didn't flinch or wince a bit.  Brave chicken.  And she then got a nice bandage of gauze and vet wrap and she is back in the crate in the basement.  We got some chicken antibiotics and hopefully she'll be on the mend and back with the flock in a few days.

We're expecting a bit of snow tomorrow, so she is living the high life for a while.  Maybe I should just bring the rest of the girls in to keep her company?