True stories of a small flock of remarkable individuals -- and other critters.



Showing posts with label Lucy the chicken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lucy the chicken. Show all posts

Friday, December 19, 2014

LESSONS FROM LUCY



Lucy was a special-needs hen.

At the age of six months, she was stricken with Marek's disease. She survived, but her legs and her stamina were permanently affected. 

Lucy needed me, so she invited me into her life. 

For six and a half years Lucy and I shared a beautiful trusting friendship. She taught me what it's like to be a chicken.  And she taught me what it means to be alive. 

This October Lucy fell ill. I recognized her symptoms at once, and made a confident decision on her behalf.  I called Rosario, the wonderful vet who I wrote about in my book, and she met Sarah and me in our backyard the next day. Together we gave Lucy a comfortable ending while I held this beautiful hen my arms. 

It has been an honor to share Lucy with the world. I continue to be amazed at the way she touches people's lives in my book, Once Upon a Flock, in my blog stories, and on Facebook. 

Lucy's flock mourned her passing.  And now her flock guides me in moving forward.  Because the sun is shining, and it's a beautiful day. 

If you, too, aspire to attain the wisdom of a chicken, here are a few pointers:




Thank you for following my stories, and stay tuned for more tales of a soulful flock!






Sunday, January 5, 2014

JAILBIRDS

Continued from the previous post, " TORTURE". 

Those Pinless Peepers worked.   

They stopped Lil'White from pecking at Lucy, but still allowed enough range of vision for her to shoot me a spiteful glare.   

But I could tell that the Peepers were uncomfortable, and I felt like a real heel for doing this to her.

I gave her about two months - hoping that would be enough time for her feather-picking habit to become a distant memory -- or no memory at all. 

The day I removed the Pinless Peepers, Lil'White took a few steps back and gave me the full-frontal stink-eye. 

Then she shook her plumage indignantly, 
sauntered over to Lucy,  
and promptly resumed her bad habit.  

Sorry, Lil'White. That was your last chance.  

I scooped her up and took her to the mobile coop where the young Nuggets had grown up.  

I placed her inside and locked the door. 

And because Lil'White has no friends, and needs no friends, she settled cheerfully into her cozy private home. 

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Meanwhile, back at the big coop, all hell was breaking loose. 
I had moved the Nuggets in with the old ladies, expecting them to sort out a pecking order and settle down as a flock.  

But the integration process had gone horribly awry. 

Daisy plotted to make all of their lives miserable. 
She stalked the nuggets from morning to night.
And when she caught them, feathers flew.

Her attacks were relentless. The screams and yelps of her victims were disconcerting.  I hoped that things would mellow out with time, but Daisy just didn't lighten up. 

Then one sunny day, 
as I spent long hours assembling this simple Ikea product on the back deck, 

I noted from across the yard that the flock was unusually calm and quiet.  There was no squawking, no running....  There were no feathers flying.  

Finally, I thought, they've reached an accord.  

That afternoon when I visited the gals, nobody came to greet me. 

Something was wrong, but didn't figure it out until Dorrie turned to look at me.  

Her face was caked with blood.  







Sunday, February 21, 2010

Lucy: Gotta Have a Baby!

...continued from previous post: SCANNING THE SKIES


Lucy survived Marek's Disease and began to regain the use of her legs, although it took a lot out of her.  She remained very weak, and she slept a lot.  While she was living in the dog crate on the porch, we really enjoyed her company.  She was always up for a good chat on a summer evening.




But  when I put Lucy out with the girls, Lil'White continued to go after her like a crazed assassin.  

Since Lucy couldn't get far on those sad twisted feet, I fashioned her a little pen to keep her safe from vicious predators while she was out in the yard.





That pen turned out to be the best little invention. I made a couple more of them, which I could toss over the gals whenever I had to run inside to take a flaming pot off the stove.



Here Hatsy attempts to peck my eye out from the pen she's sharing with Lucy. 

I don't worry too much about foxes and coyotes because Marky is always in the yard and he diligently patrols the perimeter of his 1.3 acres. 



He loves his job.



He does not love the chickens.
But that's another story.



Lucy really missed living with the girls.   So when I built her little special-needs coop I made sure she had a view of the big coop, even from her nestbox.

  




 

Here's the mini-coop from the back.  Lots of doors so I could reach Lucy in case she needed me.

Lucy settled into her new digs okay.  
Hatsy liked to come over for visits, and sometimes she had a sleepover at Lucy's.




Now and then Lucy came back to our house for a little visit.


.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


Last summer, sometime in May, Lucy went broody.




She wanted a baby.

It was a hormonal thing.
It was unmistakable and it was fascinating.

She sat in the nestbox all day, except when I lifted her out and shut the door so she couldn't get back in.    She  was  all puffed up like a speckled balloon.  And she started chanting,  "budup     budup     budup     budup ..."    nonstop--  all day, all night. 

If we had a rooster, Lucy would have had a clutch of fertile eggs to sit on. But we had no rooster.   

budup.

Observing Lucy in her broodiness reminded me of how I felt when I was about 30 and suddenly really really really wanted to start a family.


So I called up my friend Trish, whose hens happen to have a lovely little rooster.


.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  next blog entry:   BROODY LUCY

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Lucy Limps





.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .next blog entry:  LUCY LIMPS - part two