With a toe nudge, I scramble his ass back out the door and close it so I can (what feels like to me, Chicken molesting) get a closer look at the chickens vent. I am really pissing this chicken off as she proceeds to squawk and peck at me…and her grumblings are drawing attention from the Bad Boy of the Barnyard who has decided to barge back into the coop to protect his lady…. This time I tip her upside down so I can look at this new part of anatomy called a vent. If that is the case it could kill her.ĭrawing in a deep breath I run back out to the coop and lift birdie girl again. Me: Ewwwwww…no! I am not going to be poking around my chickens ass! Reply 2: Her butt hole! She may have had a fly strike.and it could’ve brought on maggots. Me: Nope, don’t see any bugs and crop looks normal. Nothing stands out to me other than I am pissing her off. Running out to the coop I flip birdie off of her nesting box and proceed to look under her wings, on her tummy, around her crop. If it’s swollen she may have a swallowing problem as it could be impacted.
Reply 2: Under her neck, just near her breastbone. Me: Nope, I checked her from beak to toes…no wounds. Me: Help! One of my hens is not looking good this morning. The conversation flowed something like this: So setting her back into the nesting box I ran into the house and jumped onto the internet to ask my Chicken Peeps for advice. Had something hurt her during the night? Had the Bad Boy of the Barnyard beat her up? Checking her over I could see nothing that would warrant her behavior. She was sitting on her nesting box, head drooping and looking pretty sickly. One of my bitchiest little prisoners didn’t seem quite right to me. One August morning I walked out to the coop to do my usual morning routine…collect the eggs, feed the Little Chicken Mafia, turn them loose with fresh water. I mean seriously, these peeps put me through some pretty gnarly paces…. I knew to water and feed them but that was about the gist of it.Īnd as I turned to Facebook chicken groups to get information I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of crazy chicken people I had taken on as friends.
#Chicken fly strike Patch
So when I got chickens on my own little patch of dirt years later, I was starting out with zero knowledge of chicken care taking. I was raised on a farm and yes, we had chickens but the most contact I ever had with them was collecting their eggs and scattering their feed. Now, I can seriously and honestly tell you I know more about chickens than I really care to.
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