Remembering why.

So, it’s New Years Eve 2020, and as a final kicker from this year I’m nursing a very sick hen.

Sweetpea wasn’t herself yesterday, puffed up and less chatty than usual, so rather than risk it turning worse we went straight to the vet. What I wasn’t expecting was his diagnosis, probably egg yolk peritonitis, likely fatal, best course of action immediate pts. I asked if there were any other options, and he suggested draining the fluid, antibiotics and antiinflammatories. But was very clear that this was likely palliative care rather than cure. (This is the option we’ve gone for).

He was very gentle about it, but said that with ex commercial hens the best I could hope for really was about a year before they succumbed to illness due to overlaying. He made me pause and question why I was rescuing ex commercial birds, having lost Chickpea and Gloria already this year, it appears that I’m about to lose Sweetpea as well (And she only arrived in April). It really hurts, I love these birds, they are my pets. They go too soon, can I keep doing this?

If I got hens from a breeder at point of lay they could easily last 8-10 years in the best of health, that’s just not a realistic expectation for ex commercial girls. But it’s not why I decided to have hens in the first place.

I know that if Sweetpea could talk she would tell you that for her 2020 has been the best year of her life. She retired in April and came to Rockley, from a permanent home in a cage in a barn she spent the summer and autumn outside in the sun, dust bathing with her flock and digging for worms, following us around constantly chattering away, the happiest of all my hens. She oversaw the building of the new run and was the first to dive into the leaves that we tired to rake up in autumn. She has loved her retirement, although it may be cut short, it’s been sweet.

So I’ll hope for a miracle, and sit with the pain, but also remember that just because sometimes things are hard, that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing.