And then there were five...

My most-sensitive hen Mammy died in her sleep this afternoon. At least I think she was sleeping.... she couldn't stand up, her legs were too wobbly, and her breathing went from very quick breaths to very slow gasps.

Reading through my books on raising chickens, I doubt very much that she died because we brought two new hens into the coop. Even though she wasn't happy about that, she was eating and walking and running with the other hens, but just keeping herself away from the two new chickens. Last night, I read through the books...... they both had chapters on the frustration of old hens getting used to new hens, and the re-establishment of the pecking order. Mammy was never at the top of that order here, so that wasn't an issue.

The books did say that when a chicken is sick, she goes downhill very quickly and the end comes before some people even realize that there's a problem in the first place. This morning when I let the chickens out of the coop, Mammy was the last one out. She didn't run to the patch of grass underneath the bird-feeders, pecking the ground for dropped seeds--- the hens do that every morning. And when they don't find enough birdseed there, I scatter some on the ground for them so they won't fight over just a few left-over seeds. Mammy walked out of the coop this morning and looked at me. Again, I thought she was giving me "the eye" because she wasn't happy with the two new-comers. I walked over to Mammy and (wonder of wonders) she let me pick her up. She sat in my arms for a minute or so, not squirming to get down, but just sitting there and staring at me. It can be un-nerving at times because chickens can stare at you a good long while without blinking.

Before the morning was over, W the handyman told me that Mammy was under the cottage, all quiet and tucked into her feathers and just sitting there. I was going to ask him to try and get her out for me, but then thought the best thing to do was just let her be. After lunch-time, Mammy came out from under the cottage and sat herself down under the rose arbor near the back courtyard. Perfect chance for me to get her and put her into a crate, away from the other hens. If Mammy was indeed sick, the books suggested she be kept by herself. Solitary confinement for that poor chicken.

So that's where she spent her last few hours.... in a cat-crate, trying to breathe, and not even able to stand up on her legs. I kept checking on her every half-hour, and she had stopped breathing within two hours of being in that crate. For each of the hours that Mammy spent in the crate, each of the other hens walked up to it and peeked into the little door. Wondering why she was in there? Or did they know something was wrong and they were saying their good-byes? These chickens are all so sensitive, so very much aware of everything that goes on out in the yard.... it wouldn't surprise me in the least that the hens knew she was sick and wouldn't be going back into the coop tonight.

What to do with a dead chicken? I thought of putting her out in the woods, but then we thought that would attract wildlife looking for other not-so-dead chickens. You can't bury it because the wildlife will just dig up the remains. Nothing to really do but wrap her up and put her in the trash bin. And that's what I did... double-bagged, and hopefully her remains won't be too awful by the time the trash truck comes next week.

W the handyman said that Mammy could have been bitten by a snake... or maybe she ate a poisonous spider. Between snakes and spiders, heaven knows we have enough of those in these hills, so either could have been a possibility. We'll never know for sure, and it doesn't matter.

All the other hens seem just fine. They're eating and drinking water and running around chasing crickets and digging up worms. Everything seems to be just fine in their little feathered world. And the death of Mammy just means that each of the remaining five will have a little more room on the roosting bar in the coop tonight.

My husband suggested getting another chicken to replace her. I don't want to do that.... the other five hens are finally re-adjusting to their two new coop-sisters. Mammy hadn't been laying eggs anyway (not since May) so we still have three hens laying eggs on a daily basis. More than enough. (More than enough eggs. More than enough chickens to clean up after.)