“Do you want me to hold Brown Hen and you put the antibiotic ointment on her or do you want to hold her and I’ll do it?” I asked Jon this morning.
There was a chunk of flesh hanging off the wound where Bud bit her and Jon thought we should cut it off. I could see his point, but I’m pretty squeamish about things like that, so I was glad when he said he’d do it.
After the three other hens were out of the coop, I was able to pick Brown Hen up. She is the one hen that will not eat out of my hand or get too close to me, so it’s never easy.
Jon quickly did the “surgery” by just pulling the hanging flesh off, then slathered it with ointment covering the whole exposed area. I put her back in the coop thinking she could rest there. But a little while later she was sitting by the apple tree, well camouflaged, with White Hen keeping her company.
I broke a couple of eggs and Brown Hen ate with the rest of the chickens. But she stayed by the tree or under the red bench most of the day. She knows how to hide.
There is a good chance that Brown Hen won’t survive, that the whole incident is too much of a shock to her system. Jon and I talked about euthanizing her but decided, for now, to just let her be. She doesn’t seem to be suffering and is eating and drinking. And White Hen seems to be keeping an eye on her.
