proxy70

	THE SWEET CHICK WITH THE FLOPPY NECK A new batch of chicks showed up at the end of the week. There are now twenty three little yellow fluff balls stumbling around, chirping wild under the heat lamp. One of the birds has a floppy neck. As I write this, she is curled up on the blanket, resting gently against the side of my arm. I've been with her for most of the day, much as I could. She was separated from the flock and given special attention because of her obvious physical deformity. We felt she needed help to get a fighting chance at life. So that's why I have been feeding, watering, and cuddling her in an effort to help her grow. Her deformity is interesting. Her neck doesn't point up and extend out of her body like a healthy chick's would. It stays low and kind of curls towards her right wing (looking at her head on). Her head usually remains in alignment with her neck or else it bends to the right, becoming in effect upside down. With encouragement or by her own will, she is capable of erecting her neck so it extends up as it should. It remains biased to her right side, though. But it is promising to see that she appears comfortable in this position.

	Her movements are affected by her deformity. She's not as agile or rambunctious as the other chicks. She doesn't move around much, but when she does it is usually in a backwards direction. With her head hung on her right side, she backs up into whatever vertical surface is available---a wall, an arm, etc. This makes me think she is a little scared about what's going on and wants to feel safe. Enclosing her in my palms also seems to give her a feeling of safety, as she calms down quite a bit when I hold her gently. She took a little poo while she was up and about earlier. That's a good sign that she's getting food in her. I have been feeding her a mush of her food and water, as well as water and little honey. It has been difficult to get her to eat or drink. She's either unable or unwilling to do it herself. I've been getting sustenance into her by periodically dipping her beak into her bowl, or else putting some mush in my palm and holding it near her beak. She responds to interactions well. She can be startled alert, or coddled into rest. Mostly she will close her eyes and appear to sleep. Oddly, she won't do this unless she is in one of her "safe" positions, backed up into a vertical surface or enclosed in a nest of blankets. At rest, I sometimes hold her with my thumb propped between her neck and her right side. This puts her neck closer to an upright position, which I hope will encourage her to do so on her own.

	I have wondered about the possibility of rehabilitating the sweet girl. If her neck muscle grew strong she might gain mobility like a normal chick's. As mentioned, she will sometimes stand with her neck partially erect. I haven't discovered the prompt, but it is encouraging to see her stand up by her own will and capability. I wonder if some kind of suspended food or play thing would encourage this further. Or maybe, she simply needs safety and strength from sustenance. I will continue to encourage and monitor her vitality. With these interventions, it's possible she will grow up. If not, then I will be grateful for the small connection I lived with her, and the little bit more of life she got to live. Updates and after feelings ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Happily, the chick's condition has improved! She holds her neck up without intervention. She eats the good I place in her dish, and sips water. She has taken many poos. These are all positive indicators. Far as I can tell, she has regained her vitality and will lead a full life.

	Brenda, as we've called her, has been returned to the flock. Watching her successfully reintegrate filled me with such joy! She was quick to establish herself in the pecking order. I giggled as I watched her barrel around the other chicks, head-butting them to clear her way for food. She's a tough girl, a fighter, and I'm very proud of her for it.

	I banded Brenda with a pink anklet. I want to be able to identify her over the coming weeks as she grows up from a tiny yellow fluffy to a big, hungry bird. Like the rest of the flock, she'll be fed feed, clover, kitchen scraps, some fruits, and bugs. Eventually, she'll be processed to become food that I can eat! To be honest, I feel all sorts of strange and curious feelings about this eventuality. I'm looking forward to it, all the same. This experience has left me with some really big feelings, like how good it feels to have purpose, how precious it feels to bear responsibility, and how paranoid I was about embarking on this act of care. It seems weird, but in the beginning I felt I was doing an abnormal thing by trying to save this chick. I guess I sometimes feel that our society punishes people for showing care and sincerity. In a factory farm or elsewhere this chick may have been simply discarded for her deformity. And that would be the "normal" thing to do. So I guess I kind of felt abnormal for caring, and for wanting to help Brenda. But in fact, that should be the normal thing to do! I'm also left feeling my lifestyle has been validated. Everything is simple and predictable enough that I can suddenly allocate time to the task of caring for a bird over the weekend. What a luxury! I wish to continue simplying my life to allow space for unpredictable diversions. Another update ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Two weeks later and gosh, Brenda looks great now. Except for her banded leg, she's impossible to identify among the flock. I'm so so so happy that she has regained health.