The Old
Black Hen
by Clara Wersterfer
My old black chicken would soon be nine years old. She was
the oldest one we had. When I opened the chicken house door
one morning, Blackie came limping out. I noticed her toes
were curling under making walking difficult. A trip to the
vet confirmed she had arthritis. Dr. Mathis wasn't sure that
anything would help her, but gave her a cortisone shot and
we waited several days, however, it didn't get any better.
By now the poor thing was making the upper foot sore by
walking on it. When I started our evening meal, pork chops
were on the menu. I looked at the square Styrofoam dish the
chops came on. Eureka! A light came on. After washing and
drying the Styrofoam, I got the hen from the yard. With my
husband's help I straightened her toes and spread them on
the Styrofoam, drawing a line around each toe. Cutting out
the little foot prints I uncurled her toes then carefully
placed her foot on the shoe I had made and wrapped each toe
to the foam, using adhesive gauze. When this chicken was
released, she positively strutted her stuff. She was very
happy and it showed. Naturally Blackie was not able to
scratch for bugs, nor sit on the roost with toes curled
around it. Nevertheless, this chicken ran around the yard.
She wore out a pair of shoes a week, but heck, Styrofoam was
free!
The
first really cold spell we had, I brought her to a small,
enclosed back porch where she could sit comfortably on the
newspaper covered floor. I placed a small space heater there
as I also had some plants on the porch. Checking on her a
little later, I found her laying on her side with feet
stretched toward the space heater. I took pictures as proof.
Those poor feet must have been really cold. She was still
lying there when morning came. The next day I wrapped extra
gauze over her feet for "overshoes". My smart mouthed
husband suggested I make her a little cape as well.
That old black hen lived almost two more years wearing those
foam shoes.
She had a heart attack one day, squawked loudly and just
fell over in the yard as I watched. She was about eleven
years old. Sometime later, I asked my husband if he knew how
long a chicken usually lived. His reply "Oh, about six
months on the average."
(c) 2005 by Clara Wersterfer
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