Snooky and Avian Botulism - a happy ending (Repost)

One evening about two weeks ago, when I was closing my girls up for the night, I noticed that one of my hens, Snooky, didn't look well at all. She entered the coop with her wings slightly spread and her tail hanging very low and my first thought was, "Oh no! A stuck egg!" I inspected her, but couldn't feel an egg at all. The next morning, when I opened up for the chickens, I found her in one of the nest boxes, unable to walk. I brought her inside and did a gentle internal examination, using some petroleum jelly on my finger, to feel if the egg was there now, but still nothing. And she was displaying some other disturbing symptoms. 

She couldn't use her legs at all, they seemed totally paralysed and she also had trouble sitting up straight and kept on falling over, either sideways or backwards. I did a thorough check for any other injuries but found nothing. The funny thing was that she didn't seem sick at all. She was alert and her eyes were bright, her comb was bright red and she ate and drank readily without any coaxing, but I had to hold her up so that she could reach the food and water. Her droppings were also perfectly normal.

Totally perplexed, I put her in a basket next to me in my studio and I had to wedge her in the corner otherwise she kept on falling over. As it was the weekend and a vet not readily available, I started treatment with a general antibiotic (Baytril) which I keep on hand for emergencies, just in case it was an infection of some sorts.

My mind was racing, trying to figure out what it could be. I searched all over the internet for 'paralysed chicken' and 'chicken can't walk' and after a long search I discovered Avian botulism which described all the symptoms I found with Snooky. I was horrified as it stated that there was no cure and that affected livestock had to be culled. 

Avian botulism is a paralytic disease caused by ingestion of a toxin produced by the bacterium Clostridium botulinum - an anaerobic, Gram positive, spore-forming rod. It acts by blocking nerve function and leads to respiratory and musculoskeletal paralysis.  In all cases, illness is caused by the toxin made by C. botulinum, not by the bacterium itself. There are several types of toxin produced by strains of this bacteria with birds being most commonly affected by type C and to a lesser extent type E.

This bacteria is widespread in soil and requires warm temperatures, a protein source and an anaerobic (no oxygen) environment in order to become active and produce toxin. Decomposing vegetation and invertebrates (i.e., insects) combined with warm temperatures can provide ideal conditions for the botulism bacteria to activate and produce toxin.

Birds either ingest the toxin directly or may eat invertebrates (e.g. chironomids, fly larvae) containing the toxin. Invertebrates are not affected by the toxin and store it in their body. 

It struck me that, just two days prior, I had composted my whole garden, never giving a thought that it might harm the chickens. I then Googled 'chickens and compost', and found a widespread consensus that compost is NOT harmful to chickens and that many farms have compost heaps and that the chickens just love scratching around in it. So now I was really puzzled.

Come Monday, I was off to the vet with Snooky and here's where it gets a bit dicey.  Not many veterinarians are knowledgeable about chickens or birds in general and the vet's puzzlement was even greater than mine. I mentioned to her that I suspected Avian Botulism and her vague answer, after consulting with her senior partner, was that it was quite probable that it was Botulism as the botulism bacteria is the only bacteria or virus that produces a (neuro) toxin that causes paralysis. After giving her a vitamin shot and another shot of Baytril, they concurred that I should keep up my treatment of Baytril for a couple of days but that they are positive that it would be better to have her euthanased.

I took Snooky home in despair and kept up the treatment for another two days. It was now almost a week and she showed no signs of improvement. I was on the point of going back to the vet to have her put down when I decided to give her some physio. I know that sounds silly, but I really was desperate. I massaged her back and her legs (the drumsticks) a couple of times a day and also gently pulled her legs in and out, exercising them a bit. I also took her outside to the other chickens in the chicken run three or four times a day, putting her on the lawn where she would just fell over, having to support herself with her wings or rest on her elbows. I also supported her with my hand under her tummy, pushing her forward gently so that her legs "walked", keeping this up for a couple of minutes before taking her inside to rest.

On the third day of her "exercise regime", I took her out to the garden where all the other chickens were enjoying their sand baths and put her in some loose sand. She was totally ecstatic, trying to go through the motions of kicking up sand, but all she could manage was to flick some sand on her back with her beak. But within a couple of minutes she was managing to sit up straight without falling over! After about ten minutes we went back inside and I rewarded her with some of her favourite snacks. The rest of the day she was sitting up straight in her basket without any support, even managing to preen some of the sand out of her feathers and reaching into the food bowl on her own.

The next day (fourth day) when I took her out to the garden and put her down in the sand, she struggled up onto her legs and actually stood! I was cheering her on and after a minute or two she took her first tentative step and proceeded on a very wobbly walk through the garden. I was totally ecstatic!

It soon became apparent to me where she was going - she had seen a lovely spot where Chi-Chi was sand bathing and without further ado she exercised her right in the pecking order by getting Chi-Chi to give up this prime spot, where she immediately got right down to the business of sand bathing, kicking legs and flapping wings and getting a good covering of the good stuff!

After that, there was no stopping her and she started exploring the garden, every now and then stumbling over a rock and falling down, but always getting up and going again. When we went back inside, I allowed her to sit outside the basket and a couple of times she got up, wandered through the house and back out to the garden again.

Going through the kitchen

The first obstacle, the kitchen step, which she managed quite well

Made it to outside on the patio!

Managed to get down the first step

Traversing her way down to the third step

After bringing her back from the garden, I put her back in the basket as it was almost time to put the other chickens to bed. But she wasn't having any of that. She jumped onto the side of the basket, where she sat for a while, jumped off and headed for the garden again. That was the sign for me. She was better and ready to join the other girls in the coop again!

Snooky managed to get to the second rung of the roost!

Everybody settling in for the night with Snooky quite happy down on the second rung

When I opened up for everybody this morning, they all ran into the garden, with Snooky in the lead! Yay!!

Snooky running to catch up with the crowd

Happily grazing together

 Relaxing under the ferns in the garden

Snooky is still not 100% and I often see her stumble or have a slight wobble, and I'm not sure if she will ever recover fully, but I am so grateful that she's improved to the point where she can carry on with her normal life en enjoy the friendship of her companions. As to whether it was Avian Botulism or not I might never know but it has taught me two things - patience is always rewarded and don't under-estimate the will of a chicken that wants to sand bath!

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An Ode to Artemis

I'm not in a good place at the moment. Last Thursday (3rd September 2015) was a bad day for me. I had to have my prize rooster and the love of my girls' life euthanised because he broke his leg during a fight with Peeps, the other rooster in the flock.

Now we all know it's not a good idea to have two roosters together, but I did not know Peeps was a rooster when I rescued him from certain death as a two-day old. He grew up in my studio with Snoodles and when they were both big enough to join the flock, they went outside. Of course Artemis tolerated the youngster, but always letting him understand who's actually King of the roost. And Peeps always obliged, keeping his distance and staying out of harm's way.

Artemis surveying his dominion from his favourite perch, keeping an eye on the girls

But as time progressed and Peeps got bigger and stronger, he wasn't so keen any more to give way and every now and then he would challenge the king, but always ended up retreating to a safe corner.

Artemis has seen it all, been there, done that, sending other rivals packing in great haste. During one such altercation with a previous rooster, Mr. Chook, for whom I had to find a new home because of the constant fighting, Artemis's top part of his beak was broken almost completely off, just hanging by a thread. I glued it back on with some plastic putty and luckily it took and grew back on, the plastic putty dropping off after a few weeks.

Injuries sustained with an earlier altercation with Peeps

Soon he was a good as new and ruling the roost once again with an iron claw.

Artemis was an excellent husband and provider, always finding the best tit-bits and passing them on to one of the girls. Here Hetty came rushing after he found a nice juicy cutworm in the compost heap.

Artemis strutting his stuff on the patio

Artemis surrounded by some of the girls after he called them for a tasty snack he had found

Artemis in full glorious colour after a successful molt

Beauty in motion

Artemis taking one of his few well-deserved breaks after all the girls had settled down for a snooze under the plants

Artemis was also the inspiration for many a sketch I made of him and the girls, who can resist such beauty?

Artemis with his broken leg

After hearing quite a raucous outside one afternoon, the girls cackling and screaming, I went out to see what's happening and everybody was clustered in the centre of the lawn (including Peeps), but Artemis was nowhere to be seen. After a search, I found him under some plants, lying down with his leg at a terrible angle and his comb and neck feathers covered in blood. Obviously there had been a fight, as Peeps was also covered in blood.

I carefully picked Artemis up, hurrying inside with him to assess the damage. After cleaning off all the blood, he seemed perfectly fine, apart from his loosely dangling leg. There was no external damage, but I decided to take him to the vet anyway for an examination. The prognosis was not good and all he could do was give some pain killers and an anti-inflammatory.

For two weeks I kept a close eye on Artemis, despairing at the fact that he could hardly get to the food or water, struggling along, hopping short distances on his one leg and supporting himself with his left wing, tiring quickly and lying down again. During this time, he and the girls were kept in the run with Peeps being banished to a separate coop until Artemis was better.

By last week Thursday, after almost 3 weeks, there was absolutely no improvement and I could feel that he had lost weight. Off to the vet again. It was abvious I had two choices - either have him put down or carry on trying. I contemplated the consequences, both for him and me, if I should go that route of trying, and although my heart was screaming "keep on trying! keep on trying!", I decided that it was not fair to Artemis and that it was better to have him put to sleep. 

I held him in my arms as the vet administered the injection and cried and cried as he flapped his last death throes.

Peeps has now taken over the perch from which to keep an eye on the girls and is trying his best to meet the high standards Artemis set, taking little snacks from me and now calling the girls to come and get it in stead of gobbling it up himself like previously.

And so goes the cycle of life on a smallholding...

A loving moment - Kiep, Artemis's favourite wife, gently preening his wounds after a fight with Mr. Chook

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A bath and a clean nest

After Kiep's broodiness finished a couple of days ago, I decided she needed a bath after sitting on her golf ball for almost a month. She looked decidedly drab and worse for the wear and needed a bit of special TLC.

I prepared some luke warm water in a tub and put her in. At first she struggled a bit (it was her first bath ever), but the minute she felt the warmth of the water, she actually lay down! I gently shampooed her back, chest and vent area, careful not to ruffle her feathers too much.

I remembered using vinegar as a youngster to rinse my hair after a wash when we'd run out of conditioner and it always left my hair soft and shiny. So, after a first rinse, I transferred Kiep to another tub with a bit of vinegar in the water, gave her a good rinsing, dried her gently with a towel and then used the hair dryer to get her nice and dry. I was a bit worried about the noise of the hair dryer, but she seemed to enjoy it, fluffing up her feathers to let in the hot air.

Kiep sunning herself in the bathroom court-yard

After she was all nice and dry, and oh so extremely soft and fluffy! we went out into the bathroom court-yard, where she spent a while preening and getting her feathers in the correct order again and when she was ready, I led her out to the main garden where she immediately rushed up to Artemis, greeting him with some wing-flapping and a lot of prancing around.

Kiep meeting up with Artemis after her bath

Spending some time with Artemis in the garden after a nice warm bath

Now it was time to also clean out her nest-box, which is on top of one of my art tables in my studio. I cleaned out the box thoroughly, put in fresh grass and then placed it back, all nice and clean.

Later in the morning she strutted into my studio to deliver her breakfast, but it turned into a big to-do. She took one look at the nest and, horrified, she proceeded to unpack all the grass and then putting it back to her liking before settling down to the serious job of laying the egg!

Her eggs are different after this last broody incident, much bigger and not so white, more brown.

My little girl is growing up now…

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Kentucky, my pet Rooster

Hope is a thing with feathers. 

That perches in the soul. 

And sings the tunes without the words. 

And never stops at all. 

- Verse from Emily Dickinson poem 

Watercolour on Bockingford

Besides my love for all animals, and for birds in particular, my love affair with chickens started in the late 70’s, when we bought our first smallholding (Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa) and, of course, the first thing anybody on a smallholding does, is get chickens, ducks and geese!

After a couple of months of settling in on our new smallholding, I was given some Bantam chickens by a neighbour, and there was a mad scramble to erect some chicken coups. They were prolific little breeders and soon the yard was full of mothers with little chicks , all running like mad for a tit-bit when they see me.

One newly-hatched little fellow, however, seemed not to be able to keep up with the rest, so I duly ‘rescued’ him, carrying him around in a basket and feeding him at every opportunity. The result was Kentucky, the most beautiful specimen of a rooster I had ever seen, with bright, coppery feathers adorning his neck and the most beautiful blue, black and burgundy tail feathers a rooster could wish for! Although he ruled his chosen hens with an iron claw, he always was a bit of a loner, spending hours following me around, hens in tow, or roosting on the back of the couch in the lounge (with lots of newspapers on the floor!)

He spent many years with me, preferring to roost in the tree outside my bedroom window, in stead of the chicken coup with the rest, and my heart was broken when I went out one morning and found part of him under the tree, half eaten, killed by a Genet during the night. But he lives in my heart forever and I’m sure he’s still watching over me from chicken heaven.

My apologies that I haven't got any photographs, but this was in the days before I had a computer, wasn't much into photography and, of course, wasn't blogging yet!

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Kiep and her red bandana

Kiep, wearing her red bandana around her neck, ready to deliver this morning's breakfast. Her nest is in my studio, on one of my art tables. She grew up here in my studio since I rescued her as a day-old two and a half years ago after being abandoned by her mother. She now spends her days outside with all the other chickens, but daily, without fail, she returns to her nest to lay her egg and then spending some time sitting on my lap or in the bottom drawer of my desk, chatting to me. 

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