Blood, Snow, and Chickens
(Not an obit)
Arisia (that's an SF&F con in Boston, for non-locals), has always had the tendency to bring on blood and snow. Even though I'm supposedly not getting periods anymore, I still had one at Arisia. I believe this is the third Arisia (of twenty-some) not to have snow during the convention, but our blizzard the next day made up for that.
This year's convention was mostly fun, but I still wish it were shorter. On Sunday night, I had a good time hanging out with out-of-town people (one of whom I couldn't identify out of context, beyond a certainty that I liked her) in the lobby bar, but Sunday evening was dismal, and Monday was a complete waste. By the fourth day of a convention, I have the attention span of a minnow and the self-esteem of a whipped dog. I am convinced that everyone I like is avoiding me, and can't actually stay in a panel, or even a conversation, for more than ten minutes, and am bored, bored, bored (and no doubt as boring as I think).
Then we got home, and I had another reason to wish we'd come home early. My daughter brought in one of our chickens, saying that her feet were frozen and she couldn't stand. It was Cozy, who's a cute little Cochin bantam and the second-lowest-ranking bird in our little flock. We took turns holding her to warm her up, but she had a look that often means the chicken is about to die -- her eyes mostly closed from the bottom and her beak open in a pant. She was unresponsive to offers of food (I'd dissolved some layer pellets in warm water to make a mash) or water. It wasn't terribly cold, and chickens are usually okay with cold, but she was much lighter than she should be. My husband went off to pick up the dog, leaving me wondering if Cozy would be alive when he got back.
Then, on the fourth offer of food, she pecked! By the time he got back, she was breathing more steadily, but still with her beak open. Also, by then, I'd seen a couple of poultry lice crawling on my shirt (ICK!), which was a clue why she was underweight. (I know poultry lice don't settle on mammals, but I changed the shirt immediately.) We bathed her, dried her, got her eating, and put her in a dog crate with food, water, and a nice place to nest, and we all washed and changed our clothes.
At that point, the expected outcome was a dead hen by morning. Instead, we had a sweetly clucking hen who ate anything we gave her. We dusted her, and I put the cats' grass in her crate and brought down a stack of flannel sheet scraps to use as lap covers while we are getting rid of the pests. We dusted the other chickens as well, although none of them seem significantly affected. I also made an herbal mash from the last issue of Backyard Poultry.
So the good news is that she seems fine. She's even put on some weight over the last three days -- no competition probably helps a lot, considering her rank. Of course, by now, she's a house pet until spring. We can't put her back out in the cold non-acclimated. Once we get rid of the parasites, though, she'll probably make a good shoulder chicken. :-)
This entry was originally posted at http://gatewaygirl.dreamwidth.org/88618.html. You may comment in either place.
Arisia (that's an SF&F con in Boston, for non-locals), has always had the tendency to bring on blood and snow. Even though I'm supposedly not getting periods anymore, I still had one at Arisia. I believe this is the third Arisia (of twenty-some) not to have snow during the convention, but our blizzard the next day made up for that.
This year's convention was mostly fun, but I still wish it were shorter. On Sunday night, I had a good time hanging out with out-of-town people (one of whom I couldn't identify out of context, beyond a certainty that I liked her) in the lobby bar, but Sunday evening was dismal, and Monday was a complete waste. By the fourth day of a convention, I have the attention span of a minnow and the self-esteem of a whipped dog. I am convinced that everyone I like is avoiding me, and can't actually stay in a panel, or even a conversation, for more than ten minutes, and am bored, bored, bored (and no doubt as boring as I think).
Then we got home, and I had another reason to wish we'd come home early. My daughter brought in one of our chickens, saying that her feet were frozen and she couldn't stand. It was Cozy, who's a cute little Cochin bantam and the second-lowest-ranking bird in our little flock. We took turns holding her to warm her up, but she had a look that often means the chicken is about to die -- her eyes mostly closed from the bottom and her beak open in a pant. She was unresponsive to offers of food (I'd dissolved some layer pellets in warm water to make a mash) or water. It wasn't terribly cold, and chickens are usually okay with cold, but she was much lighter than she should be. My husband went off to pick up the dog, leaving me wondering if Cozy would be alive when he got back.
Then, on the fourth offer of food, she pecked! By the time he got back, she was breathing more steadily, but still with her beak open. Also, by then, I'd seen a couple of poultry lice crawling on my shirt (ICK!), which was a clue why she was underweight. (I know poultry lice don't settle on mammals, but I changed the shirt immediately.) We bathed her, dried her, got her eating, and put her in a dog crate with food, water, and a nice place to nest, and we all washed and changed our clothes.
At that point, the expected outcome was a dead hen by morning. Instead, we had a sweetly clucking hen who ate anything we gave her. We dusted her, and I put the cats' grass in her crate and brought down a stack of flannel sheet scraps to use as lap covers while we are getting rid of the pests. We dusted the other chickens as well, although none of them seem significantly affected. I also made an herbal mash from the last issue of Backyard Poultry.
So the good news is that she seems fine. She's even put on some weight over the last three days -- no competition probably helps a lot, considering her rank. Of course, by now, she's a house pet until spring. We can't put her back out in the cold non-acclimated. Once we get rid of the parasites, though, she'll probably make a good shoulder chicken. :-)
This entry was originally posted at http://gatewaygirl.dreamwidth.org/88618.html. You may comment in either place.