If you would have asked me seven months ago if I would ever apply Preparation H to a chickens butt I would have laughed hysterically at such a question.  Flash forward to the present and I find myself in just that very situation.

It all started last week when David and I were out taking care of the chickens. He happen to notice that one of the little guys rear end was, to put it nicely, not looking quite right. He picked the poor thing up and we both examined the situation.

My first reaction was what one would imagine. If I was looking in a mirror I suppose the look on my face would resemble disgust, confusion, and a contorted face trying to hold back bile that was creeping up my throat. I managed to pull myself together rather quickly and chime in that she must be trying to lay early. We put the ‘girl’ back down and decided to just wait and see.

While David was out running errands I couldn’t get the chicken’s butt out of my mind.I’d like to say it was because I could sympathize with the little thing but I can’t and it was mainly because I’m a softy and hate seeing any animal in pain.

I threw on my muck boots and walked back out to the coop to take another look. This time ‘she’ was hiding under the big red barn that is the new coop.  I realized something was really wrong and I needed to do a little research and by research I mean email Tiffany at Gopherboy Farms and ask some questions. I managed to snap a quick picture of the chickens behind (I’ll spare you the images) and sent if off to Tiffany with a message that said HELP!

Tiffany responded rather quickly and informing me that it was most likely a prolapsed Oviduct (if it is a female) and if caught early it can sometimes be reversed. I continued to read her instructions, 1) remove chicken immediately. Chickens go after things that are red and bloody, ie: become cannibals.

At this point I didn’t read further, put my phone in my pocket and ran out to the pasture where the chickens were. I proceeded to pick the poor girl up and carry her back into her old safe keeping, the garage. When I saw that she was safe and sound I pulled out my phone to read the rest of Tiffany’s instructions assuming that now that she was out of harms way the chicken would magically heal itself. And then I read on…after the chicken has been removed, soak it in a warm bath and vaseline the area with gloves and/or apply a hemorrhoidal cream until the chickens improves. WHAT?!

I reread the sentence several times before putting my phone back in my pocket. Pull yourself together Amanda. You can SAVE this chicken!

After my momentary panic of the idea of  having to actually touch the area, I quickly called David who was in the middle of an important meeting:

“Hello”

“I need you to pick up some hemorrhoid cream.” I said rather seriously.

“Okay…[laughter, laughter]”

“It’s for the chicken David. I need you to wrap up your meeting, get to the store, and get me that cream!” I said impatiently.

“I’m not sure there is a place to get that at around where I’m at but I’ll see what I can do.” (followed by even more laughter)

By the time David arrive home with the cream I had mentally prepared myself for what I had to do. I grabbed all my supplies, rubber gloves, two warm compresses, an extra towel, and the hemorrhoidal cream and headed out to the garage.

[Due to the graphic nature of this part of the story, it has been omitted from the final release of this post as to save its readers from horrible images and to leave them with the ability to still be able to swallow their dinner.]

When the task was complete, I put the chicken back in its (hopefully) temporary home and went back inside.

When I opened the front door David was there waiting for me.

“Well, I can check that one off my bucket list!” I said as I pulled off my boots and closed the door.

So now we wait. I soak, clean, apply cream and repeat until the little thing is healed and can be put back out with the others. There is the possibility that my efforts may not work and she/he will have to be culled which is really just a polite way of saying killed.

For now, soak, apply, repeat and hope that the little chicken pulls through. One thing is for sure there is never a dull moment on the farm.