October 12, 2014 § Leave a comment
It was as simple and peaceful as it could have been – I went to let them out in the morning, and Lily was dead, lying in the nestbox. No sign of any injury, no illness, nothing untoward at all. She just … died, having given us exactly seven years of her presence. My beautiful Lily-pilly.
We’ve buried her in the berry-glade, under a dwarf almond tree, surrounded by strawberries and blueberries. The bed next to her mum, Bessie.
She leaves us three very beautiful daughters – Freya, Remy and May. And a lot of memories.
My beautiful girl.
October 9, 2014 § Leave a comment
Yesterday I was sitting in the yard with Stan, Dorothy and Adelaide, enjoying the sun and the peace. October is a beautiful time of year in our garden, with huge amounts of blossom everywhere. So there I was, with my chooks, feeling happy about the world.
And then I realised I’d put my hand in a small puddle of bright red blood.
It really wasn’t a good feeling. I grabbed each of the chooks in turn and gave them a thorough inspection, but it was Dorothea Fluffy-bum again. Not the previous wound, thank heavens – that’s healed up really well, with barely a mark to show for it. This time she’s somehow managed to slice herself directly under her cloaca. No idea how – I couldn’t find anything sharp in their house or run or yard, and there was no other trace of blood on anything or anyone. So the how remains a mystery, for now at least.
Anyway, back in to the vets we went. Again she’s managed to make it impressive but also superficial, which is good. They operated on her this morning, and I brought her home with yet another course of antibiotics for another week or even two inside. Obviously it’s not a good location as far as potential infection goes, so I’ll be keeping a close eye on her.
Ah, the joys of chicken keeping. It’s the glamour that does it for me …