Blog

This post kicks off a new blog post segment telling stories from the homestead: Beats that Matter. Be sure to check out the end of this post for ways to share your #beatsthatmatter.

It was New Years Eve 2019. I not only fought a mental exhaustion, but a physical one, too. I utilize covered wire dog cages to safely house growing chickens in. I then, let them out for parts of a day as often as I safely can.

This evening the wind blew steady with gusts at 40 miles an hour and more. I felt concerned over the well being of one or two of the chicken groups. Knowing the temps were supposed to drop, with rain turning to snow, I had moved a couple pens in the day before. My mind seen the wet dirt they stood in, and imagined their feet in that condition when the cold came seeping in through the night. Would their feet freeze?

A little about me here, my adrenal glands struggle to produce enough cortisol in times of stress. What does that look like in daily living? It means there are times I simply need to rest. No screen time, no physical activity, drink water, and rest, sleep if I need to, but mostly rest. These times are brought on by different forms of stress. I often pay close attention to how I feel and learned when I am simply done. This particular evening, I was done. Horses were fed, I knew I had pushed enough. I came in hoping to go back outside to move a few pens, but as I rested, I felt that pushing more would not help me. This kind of exhaustion does not get better until I rest enough. I feel bad even as I type this out. I grew up believing I needed to care for animals first and myself second. Now days though, there are times, if I want to get better, I need the rest. It is a balance between what needs to be done now and what can wait.

New Years Day as I walked out toward the pens, my eyes went first to the pen I felt the most concern about. Yay, they all had heads up and alert. Although, one did look a little worse for wear. As my eyes traveled to another pen, I my heart dropped, and my first feeling was one of self-loathing. I had failed. That Swedish Flower Hen grow out looked frozen! It’s head protruded from the cage, an iclicle lined its face. I tapped it to see if the body was frozen. It gave the tiniest of movement and it did not have that hard feeling of kicking a block of wood or a frozen clump. There was still a softness to it. I felt a tiny bit of optimism, thinking I have to try. I opened the cage, reaching to the far back. I needed to work gently to pull the head back into the cage. It was stuck, until I tipped the beak up. I cradled this, maybe 1 and ½ pound, bird as I walked into the barn. I knew exactly what I was going to do next. I gently laid it on the top of a brooder cover. There was a heat lamp in there with heat radiating upward.

You might wonder why I did not take it in the house?  Temps were well below 32 degrees outside. Inside the house it was closer to 75 or warmer.  A body that cold can go into shock if warmed to quickly. Its little body was cold to the touch. There was snow frozen to its feathers. I considered taking a picture of it. I felt cold and desired to get to feeding. As I fed animals, I would walk by the almost frozen little thing, turning over to the other side. The side closest to the heat felt warm. The side away from the heat felt cold. This continued for around 1 hour. The snow melted off of it. This poor little thing could not maintain its body temperature. I pryied its eye open and it looked at me, blinking its inner eyelid. I worked its legs and wings moving them back and forth. Sometimes it would move its foot on its own.  A good sign, I decided and while cold, it was defrosted. Hum, a new meaning to defrosting a chicken.

Work outside completed, I evaluated the bird.  I decided to take it in with me. Incapable of sitting up on its own I placed it in a heat bulb box. In this box it was propped up, but at this point it did not hold its head up at all.

After 30 to 60 minutes passed, I held it in front of the bathroom wall heater. I used that much like a blow dryer. The under feathers were wet and many of the outer feathers, too. I noticed there were not a whole of under feathers compared to an adult bird. Not to self here: younger birds may not have developed the needed insulation against adverse temperatures. Having raised hatches for 3 years now, I understand the need for heat until there feathers come in, but had not given thought to the fluffy under feathers probably like down feathers.

I blocked out the feelings of blame, working to warm the bird.  Here my motherly instincts kicked in. I wrapped it in paper towels, laid it on my chest, and covered it up with my coat. I laid on the bed resting. Thinking about how chick and even adults will huddle together.  Hoping the sound of a heart beat and warm body would bring comfort and a will to live.

As I held this little bird on my chest, I noticed movement of the eyelids. The eyelids did not open, but they moved. Now, I felt excited. My commitment to helping this little thing strengthened. I put it back into the box and in the warmest room in the house. Its body felt warmer, but had aways to go. I recall praying for healing for this Swedish Flower Hen.

Returning home, I found it like this. I quickly snapped a picture. My happiness overflowed. I felt confident it had a great chance to live. I interrupt the story here. I did not know if it was a hen or a rooster, for sure. It may end up providing food, but in the mean time I value life.  I seen no reason to not attempt to help it, even if it was a rooster with no breeding future.  This was not about money, or worth in a business sense. It was about the tender gift of life.

The next time I checked on it, an hour or two later, it had removed itself from the box. It was still hanging out in the bathroom. It did not stand on its own yet. I spent a few minutes supporting it on each side, helping it to stand. At last it could stand, a bit wobbly, but that was to be expected.

Now what to do with it? I did not want it running around in my bathroom all night (and pooping all over). The temps were too cold to take it back outside yet. I did not want to shock it taking back out to the cold barn already. It really had not started eating and drinking yet. I decided to use the largest indoor brooder which is nothing more than a repurposed fish or reptile tank. It worked. The upstairs of the house was slightly cool, but I figured that would serve as a temperature transition to the barn.  Busy days followed I ended up keeping it inside waiting for better weather and to make a decision where to keep it outside. It had been housed with a Silver Gray Dorking grow out. I had a concern that they may not get along after being separated for that length of time.

These are #beatsthatmatter to this country girl’s heart. I am excited to introduce this hash tag as a way to share the important moments in life. Use this hashtag and tag @countrygirlheartbeatsfarm on Facebook or Instagram either stories or post. These will be shared on CG Heartbeats Farm Facebook page and Instagram based on where you shared it.