Those of a sensitive dispostion, better look away! (I am serious about this. Seriously. You have been warned!!!).
Following our move to the country, we became poultry farmers. In a small way - we buy the corn etc, but never seem to make a profit. Maybe because we keep giving the eggs away to nice people.
Charlie was my best hen. She was a Light Sussex. I bought her as an egg off ebay last summer, dutifully turning her 3 times a day and pulling her out of her shell when she pipped it. She was always the first to come running when she spotted me, and if i had no crumbs for her she would stop 4feet away, completely nonplussed (that's my mum! what do i do now?). She laid an egg every day; supermarket-egg-type in size, shape and colour, but we did not hold that against her. On wednesday she started to limp, and then she stopped laying and started spending most of the day in her nesting box. Still eating crumbs though when she was up and about first thing in the morning. Sunday her sore leg was yellow. Yellow? Was it a bruise? A mega-septic leg? We dusted off our poultry books and scoured the internet. LittleSis phoned her vet friend o'er the pond. We went and looked again, DH and I. That wasn't feathers stuck down on her back, that was an ulcer. And that yellow was yolk. Poor, poor Charlie, she had an impacted egg. Isn't that gruesome?
She had to be dispatched. She would have been all scarred up inside even if we could have got the broken egg out, and that's no good for a hen. DH did it.
I have to say, I believe this problem is very uncommon, and poor Charlie was very unfortunate to suffer from it.
We're shaking it off. Helped by the new folk who came back with us from the rare breeds market on Saturday:
Here is Jemima, she will lay chocolate-coloured eggs (no Freudian slips on this blog!) and Blondie, Brunnie and Darkie who are only 14weeks old and already laying the tiniest tinted eggs.
We put Charlie's last three eggs in the incubator, keeping our fingers crossed; I have resolved to take more photos of the hens - if they have names, they ought to have their portraits taken.