Last Monday we had to have Beaky put to sleep. We are devastated. Beaky came to us in February 2019. She was a rescue from the British Hen Welfare Trust, and had spent the first 18 months of her life in a cage. She was a scruffy little thing, missing loads of feathers, one foot ever so slightly bigger than the other. Like Mildred, the scruffiest of our previous bunch, she made up for her lack of feathers by bossing everyone around. Together with Bessie, one of our other new hens, she scaled the fence to pick a fight with our existing chickens, Mildred and Maud. She soon learned her way around, and learned who gave out the best treats. About 18 months ago, Beaky got quite ill. The vet gave her antibiotic and calcium, but didn't know what was wrong, and didn't know whether she'd get better (we've since found a different vet, who is far more knowledgeable about chickens). It was the middle of winter, and we kept her in our house for eleven nights, hand feeding her and willing her to pull through. Eventually she did, and went on to be strong and healthy, with a fine red comb. Beaky was always up to something. Always sticking her beak in, always willing to give the others a peck if they stepped out of line. When we lost Mildred and Maud last year, she stepped up to become the leader of our little flock. Beaky was NOT impressed when we got the young chickens last year, and never lost an opportunity to show them who was boss. She was also not impressed about the avian flu restrictions over the winter. Like her old lady pals, she slowed down in recent months, and the three of them spent a lot of time napping in the hay under the swing (although of course they still made time to stand in our porch demanding treats). We realised a couple of weeks ago that she wasn't well, and the vet diagnosed a tumour. We gave her antibiotics and steroids, and did our best, but after just a week it had grown so much it was starting to block her vent, and she'd stopped eating much.
We'd got a vets appointment for a check up on Monday, but over the weekend she slowed down a lot, and we realised it was probably time to let her go. On Monday morning, the sun was shining, and we left her to potter around the garden with the others. They spent a while under the swing, dug up a bit of my veg garden, and then the three old ladies went to hang out in their old favourite dust baths. Finally, the others wandered off, and Beaky didn't follow. We gave her all her favourite treats, and she made her little excited-about-cheese noise (although didn't eat anything), and we took her on one final road trip. We've never had to make this decision before. We had Mildred put to sleep, but she was so ill she wouldn't have lasted the day, whereas Beaky was still walking around. It was the right decision, but definitely not an easy one. She'd been with us for over two years, and I'll always be grateful she had longer with us than in a cage. I'm grateful that the sun shone in her final weeks, and she spent so much time lounging round in the garden. Miss you little Beaky-o.
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Hello!Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I'm Jenni, and I write here about our new foray into country living, which includes growing food, knitting, baking, wandering around the fields, and seeing which local cafe serves the best cake. Categories
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