Finding Contentment

Good-Bye, Big Mama

  Big Mama as a chick. She is the one in the corner.

After nearly a year of owning our flock of six backyard chickens, we have lost one.

Some of you may remember last August when I posted about Big Mama and how she had been attacked by our black Lab. We nursed her her back to health slowly but surely until she was as good as new as far as we could see. Then we painstakingly introduced her back into the flock, letting her spend time with the other chickens each day until they accepted her again.

Big Mama as a young pullet.

As you can imagine, Big Mama became one of our favorites. A few days ago, we went to feed and water the chickens only to notice that something was wrong with her. She had an egg hanging outside her vent, in what appeared to be a bloody membrane of some sort. I put gloves on and tried to remove the egg, but it wouldn't budge.

I decided to try and find a veterinarian who would see chickens. Because I lived in a city, albeit a small one, I found only one vet who would see any kind of farm-type animal. But when I called to see if they would see my chicken, they acted like I was crazy. I guess most people think chickens aren’t really worth the time and money involved in veterinarian care.

I then called an older man from my church who has a chicken farm. I described her condition and he immediately told me she had had a "blowout." There was no fixing it, he said.

I went online and googled "chicken blowout," and discovered it was technically called a prolapsed oviduct. Apparently, it happens when the egg is too big for that particular chicken to lay. The only solution I found was to push the oviduct back into the chicken, put some Preparation H on it, and hope for the best. But I couldn't get the egg to come out. And I couldn't very well push the entire egg back up into her and leave it there. The other chickens were already starting to peck at her, and I read that they would eventually cause her intestines to fall out.

It was with a heavy heart that my husband and I drove to a family-run hardware store and purchased a hatchet. Mercifully, Hubby did what he had to while I went about my business inside the house. We couldn't quite bring ourselves to process and eat her, so we buried her.

Big Mama as an adult hen.

The children cried, but I think this was really a good lesson for us all. We are working to become self-sufficient homesteaders, with hopes of moving to a large piece of land in the countryside in the next few years. We have come a long way in the year since we made this decision, but if God decides to eventually bless us with our dream of a country farm, we will have to get used to things happening with the animals sometimes.

Still, we will always remember Big Mama.

Untitled Comment

09:01 AM, Monday, March 17, 2008 .. Posted by Mennobrarian

I'm sorry you lost your chicken. No doubt that these things happen on the road to greater self sufficiency as animals are complicated matters. Hope your children are doing better and take heart- I couldn't (and wouldn't) have eaten her either!
~Monica~