Hooray For The Cavalry!

Yesterday, Retfords called me back to tell me that they had identified the bacteria causing MIni's infection. It has almost certainly originated from wild birds, who presumably have been using the back garden as a giant latrine. Most importantly, it is treatable. The extremely efficient person on the end of the phone ran through various antibiotics with me that would be effective, and once we had settled on one, promised to post it immediately. This morning, Mini's medicine arrived by courier.

She has been prescribed a medicine licensed for pigeons, called Soludox Doxycycline, which is to be added to the drinking water for seven days. The other girls are also to be dosed, as the vet feels they are likely to be infected. Mini appears to be like a canary down a mine; she shows symptoms, where as the others hide theirs. I have been warned that this particular antibiotic tastes foul, so I have also been sent a tonic to flavour the water with. I am literally joyous with relief, and will confess to doing a little dance holding said medicines above my head as soon as the courier left. I'm hoping he didn't see me.

Needless to say, the drinker has been medicated. At the moment, my ladies are strutting around the garden. However, they will be incarcerated shortly, and fed dry toast in an effort to make them drink the faintly luminous water.

For the first time in weeks, there is hope.

Chicken Origami

Yesterday the swab kit arrived from the poultry lab. I roped the ever tolerant husband in to help, and restrained a miffed Mini. The ever tolerant husband approached Mini with trepidation, as I wrestled open her beak. I rather snappily told him to take the swab, rather than tickling her with it. We then moved on to the frankly, grim, eye cheese. Tentatively, he swabbed her gunky eye, and twirled some of the vile cheese-like substance from her eye socket. Neither of us felt like breakfast. This done, we posted the swabs to the lab. I confess to muttering a little prayer.

After a hasty Christmas shopping trip, we grumpily returned home. As I stepped out of the back door, I glanced into the run. What I saw made my heart sink. A jumbled mass of white, with some darker smudges, lay at the bottom of the ramp. I froze. Something in my posture brought the ever tolerant husband running, and as he too saw the crumpled mass in the run, he tried to console me. Very close to tears, I approached the Convent, fully expecting to see a very dead Mini, possibly duffed up by the rest of the flock. What I found was a screwed up layer of newspaper, that I use under the perch in the coop. Maude has a habit of taking her frustration at being incarcerated out on this layer, taking great pleasure in tearing it to pieces. As I breathed a sigh of relief, Mini stuck her head out of the coop, and muttered her trademark 'meh-meh' in greeting. I have never been so glad to see her.

The ever tolerant husband remarked that perhaps the flock had taken up origami to stave off boredom. Or perhaps to teach me a lesson.....