(Maria’s Video)

I’ve lived with chickens for years, but this is a first. When White Hen disappeared for five days in arctic weather, we gave her up for dead. When she showed up after a mysterious five-day absence and the other hens turned on her, we set up a”hospice roost. ” She looked wretched, so I gave her a day or two to live.

She seemed to be in a coma. Her comb had collapsed, and she didn’t seem able to eat herself, so Maria hand-fed her. She also rearranged the area we set up so she could eat without reaching up and had a circle of hay bales to sit on and sleep near.

Maria was born for this, and she has been talking with her, stroking her feathers, and offering her exceptional food and grain. She looked so awful. The other hens didn’t recognize her and wanted her out of the roost. We haven’t decided whether to re-introduce her or just let her be.

Maria has fashioned a little Chicken recovery center. She seems very happy to stay put. Great work, Maria. You amaze me several times a week.

She looked so awful I thought of killing her for her own sake. I’m glad I didn’t.

Within a few hours of the same day, Maria worked at a chicken hospice facility and made a beautiful pillow that sold quickly. There is no limit to what she can take on. I stood and watched the hen talk to her for five or ten minutes, and I swear they understood one another. White Hen didn’t stop chattering and was alert and mobile.

Today, I can hardly believe the transition. White Hen is almost herself, her comb is up, eating heartily by herself, and drinking water we’ve left behind. Maria has checked in with her several times and took the video above.

Above. You can see the difference.  This is what the White Hen looked like when she showed up, and we rushed her into the barn. She was out of it, not eating or moving. I had no doubt she was near death. She is 11 years old, which is old for a chicken, but today, she seems much like she was before she disappeared. Anything could happen tonight or tomorrow, but what happened today was amazing.

It isn’t a big deal, but it feels like one. We are both excited and surprised.

I think White Hen got lost or trapped somewhere and nearly starved in the storms. She’s eating heartily and drinking a lot of water. I’m happy to see this, and Maria is delighted. She doesn’t look like a dying chicken today. We’ll see what happens. Life on a farm is never dull. And I have learned repeatedly that life is full of crisis and mystery.