We had four hens go broody at the same time. As much as I've tried to break them, it was to no avail for two of the younger hens. They'd sit on empty nests for days upon days these past two months. Finally, I said enough. I tried moving them off the nests, breaking nests apart, rousting them every couple hours, collecting eggs six times a day, cool bathes, and time out cages, and nothing worked. Within days, these two were broody again.If these last two hold out are sitting on nests, taking needed nest boxes, and not laying eggs, then I'm going to use it to our advantage. They are now sitting on 22 eggs. Well, that's not entirely true. One of the blue egg laying hens went broody with the Silkie. This nest has two mother hens who sit on the eggs. The white polka dot hen trades off sitting duties with the white Silkie. This way when I is sitting, the other takes a break to eat, drink, and be sociable, and vice versa. One the other nest, the one pictured, she is the one and only mother hen. I put food and water in the box with her, and she's on the front porch while the other nest is in the coop. This morning she kicked two eggs out of her nest.
Mel had better get busy on the new coop and run before the cooler temperatures set in. The old coop and run will the broody grow out pen. Now how she is going to get the three hens which prefer to roost in the tree over the coop, I'll never know until she does it. She's got until the middle of the month before these broody mamas will need the present space exclusively for their young. The chicks my be a Rhode Island cross breed (from our rooster) But the chickie babies will lay eggs. We are still talking about a pure bred flocks too, but these additional hens will suffice for egg production. The roos will be freezer/canner campers. We don't need cross roos although Big Red is ending his fourth year of fertility. This hatch will tell the tale. We'll candle the eggs later this week to see how many are fertilized and viable.
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| Patches in happier times |
She was our youngest daughter's cat that we got from the Humane Society. When our daughter went to college and was gone for six months, this cat warmed up to me rather than than attacked me. She was a 6-month old feral kitten that chose Jennifer at the shelter. She jumped onto Jennifer's shoulder and dared her to look at any other. We renamed her Patches rather than Pockets because her tortoise shell coloring. Mel later dubbed her "Apache" because she always remained aloof and ready to attack. Being feral, she only took to Jennifer and sometimes my husband.
When she realized that Jennifer wasn't coming home for a while, she changed her manner towards me in small increments. She started being my escort to and from the house. When I was out in the yard, she was with me. A healthy six feet at least, but she was there. Her aloofness continued somewhat until two weeks before dying. She was never one to be held or cuddled. Instead she would lay on top of you while you slept, or up against you. I never quite knew whether it was a show of affection, or an effort to stay warm with shared body heat.
But then again, when my husband was finally bed bound, she lay beside him except for about three hours a day to take care of her business outside and eat. Even the Hospice aides had to work around her to do his care. She just couldn't be budged away from him. Even after they took his body away, she laid on the spot where he lay until they took his hospital bed away. Even then, she laid on his pile of sheets grieving his passing.
Why did we wait so long to get her into the vet? Once she heard the word vet, she'd go into hiding and wouldn't come out until after 5 PM. Safe from going and she knew it. We also had car trouble with our only vehicle that lasted a week, but that's another long, cockeyed story. Finally, she came out of hiding when Mel returned from the grocery store (long after her appt time). She was lying on the walkway. Too weak to even meow. She was badly dehydrated and she hadn't eaten all day...safe in her hiding place.
Being after 5PM, Mel hurriedly called the vet. Could we catch her and bring her in on Saturday morning. That night, we tried to entice her to eat with a can of tuna (people food not cat food). As much as she wanted it, she couldn't eat or drink. Later, Patches went to the water bowl on her own. She was too weak to lift her head long, but I watched her lap up some water. As the weight of her head pulled her nose under water, she raise up enough to rest her head on the dg food dish to allow the water to drain from her nose and mouth area. After a few minutes rest, she'd dip her head towards the water dish again to repeat the process. She finally stopped and lay down beside the water dish. I didn't expect her to live through the night.
During the night, Patches did something strange. She lay next to me. Crawl about six inches and lay her head on my available body part, stay there for a few minutes, and then move on. From the top of my head and back again. I thought it was Patches touching my body warding off evil because she would be able to protect and escort me anymore. Mel said, because she couldn't see that well that she was using my body as a reference point. It could be that both of us are right. We'll never know for sure.
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| airplaned ears |
At the vet's office, the aide put the cat onto the scale...5.5! She'd lost half her body weight. Patches regular weight for the past five years has been around 10 lbs. She wasn't fat just a big, short haired cat. In her younger years, she weighed in at 15 lbs of muscles and bones, not fat. But, age has some strange ways. That and her lifestyle here with of plenty of tree to climb, rats and rabbits to catch, and two acres or more to roam of hilly terrain made her more svelte. Unlike her human counterparts.😸
After finding that her liver and kidneys had palpable masses, and the blood work, there was no question about it. Her kidneys and liver functions had shutdown. She was dying quite painfully of starving to death as the rest of her body caught up with her liver and kidneys. Tears coursed down my face as I denied a hospital admit to run IV fluids to bolster her up. There was simply no treatment for a cat this age. At 18 years old, I had to let her go. I rubbed her head as they gave her the injections and in a few short minutes, she was gone.
RIP Patches. You had a life full of taking care of others. You deserve it. While you're up there, tell your "Daddy" I miss him too.
Y'all have a blessed day!
Grieving Jo
I am so, so sorry to hear about Patches. It's always heartbreaking to lose them. We lost a cat to feline lymphoma ten years ago. We went through surgery and chemo for the first round, and bought more years than we excepted. We didn't have the heart to put him through that when he came out of remission. I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't let anyone make you feel badly about not getting Patches to the vet sooner. They still die. I've come to the conclusion that we want to prolong their lives for ourselves.
ReplyDeleteOn another note, I'd give anything to have some broody hens! We haven't had a broody for the past three summers. Now they're all 5 years old and slowing down. We need new chickens.
Leigh, our older girls (3 y/o) were winding down also until we bought the last batch of chicks. Suddenly, the older biddies started laying every day again. The problem with four of them going broody at the same time hurt our egg production schedule. Currently all our eggs are spoken for (sales) with 1 doz per week for us. Not only were they not laying, but they were appropriating eggs from the other hens. That's how one chicken had 20 eggs under her.
DeleteAbout Patches, I would not have gone the surgery and chemo route with her. She was 18 years old. Any time gained would have been short lived. I just would have put her to sleep sooner if I had known. I can't imagine the pain she was in. That's the only thing I feel any guilt about.