My friend Jim, who has lived 2 doors away for many years, has always looked after my hens when I go away, and I do the same for his. Unfortunately, he moved house last Thursday, two days before we went away for a week's holiday. Luckily I found a sensible 13-year-old girl nearby, who is very keen indeed on chickens, and with parental backup was only too happy to take on the job for the week, after various training sessions plus lots of written instructions, contact numbers etc.
24 hours into the holiday I got a phone call to say one of them had prolapsed, (though she didn't know what this was, and was rather upset, especially as the others must have been having a go and making it bleed.) So have been exchanging messages about cleaning it up and isolating her from the others, she's been pushing it in and it's popped out again twice, so Mum is going to try to get a vets appointment tomorrow to have the hen PTS. What a start to her career as a poultry keeper, poor lass!
My hens are usually so trouble-free and easy to care for, and in all my years of keeping them, this is the first prolapse any of them have had. Why do these things always happen at weekends, when you're away?
24 hours into the holiday I got a phone call to say one of them had prolapsed, (though she didn't know what this was, and was rather upset, especially as the others must have been having a go and making it bleed.) So have been exchanging messages about cleaning it up and isolating her from the others, she's been pushing it in and it's popped out again twice, so Mum is going to try to get a vets appointment tomorrow to have the hen PTS. What a start to her career as a poultry keeper, poor lass!
My hens are usually so trouble-free and easy to care for, and in all my years of keeping them, this is the first prolapse any of them have had. Why do these things always happen at weekends, when you're away?