The Sky Is Falling!

*Another re-post from last spring - one more day til the root canal and I can hopefully get off the painkillers - thanks for your patience with me!*

At least that is what this little gal must have thought. Remember in my last post when I told you I did things half-assed backwards? Well, I do ALOT of things half-assed backwards. Like, um., putting the cage back together after I clean it. Well. Glen decided to move the cage a wee bit, and well, then like, um, out spills six baby chickens, a feeder, and a glass mason jar with a metal watering thingy attached. It was QUITE a mess. All the chickens fared well, 'cept this little one. I THOUGHT it broke it's leg. I can't quite figure out how, maybe the water bottle fell on it (perish the thought!), or maybe it just fell the wrong way. A four foot drop for a four inch chicken, well, that would be like me falling, what? 60 feet! (My math skills ARE improving!) I put it back in the cage, went in the office just long enough to print off the chicken coop plans (hopefully will be building this weekend), went back to check the birds, and those darn bully birds were pecking this one to death. I'm sure I've saved it from a gruesome, untimely demise. I put her in her own box, kept her warm all night and hoped for the best.

The next morning, I checked on her, and the poor thing had her little leg all balled up under her wing. She had dried blood on her, and her leg was stuck to the blood. Her knee jointed was terribly swollen and bruised. She tried so hard to eat, but kept losing her balance and falling over. Time for the Country Doctor! I gently pried her leg from her side and splinted it with a couple of toothpicks. I kept thinking that it wouldn't be healthy for her to heal all alone, and the other birds kept pecking her each time I'd try to re-introduce her to the flock. I wrapped that little bird in an old dishtowel and kept her in my hoodie ALL day. I do mean ALL DAY. I vacuumed with her, ate with her, did dishes with her, took my hour long walk around Lake Dale with her, went to the grocery store with her! (I avoided the meat department). I tried to put her to bed in her box alone and she, not sure what to call it...whistled? peeped? LOUDLY. I ended up sleeping with her in my hoodie for a few hours. Well, she slept. I didn't. Later that night I tried making a prosthetic leg for her out of toothpicks. It was SO funny. She couldn't walk on it though.

I named her Peggy Sue. Get it? PEGgy Sue! Oh, I'm so darned clever. I'm happy to report that PeggySue is healed, happy, walking and seriously kicking some bully chicken butt.

Thanks for reading. You are reading aren't you? *tap tap* this thing on? A few of you have emailed me. Are you able to leave comments? I think I have it set up so anyone can leave a comment. Please let me know if you can't.