dirt / By Amy Stewart

The Feathered Killers

Her eyes were barely open, but she was still alive. I snatched her up and ran inside with her, then returned for Ida, who clearly could not be left alone with our murderous hens. Once I had them inside, I realized that Ida could also not be left alone with Lady Bird. Chicks, as I said, will pick at a red, bloody injury. It’s just instinct.

For the rest of the day Lady Bird slept in a box on my desk. She wasn’t eating or drinking much, and she looked like something out of a horror movie. Although her skull was intact, there was no getting around the impression that half her head was missing. As you can imagine, I felt horribly guilty: after all, I was the one who locked her up with those psychopathic killers I used to call my pets.

A week has passed and Lady Bird is still with us. We put a little hydrogen peroxide and antibiotic ointment on her wound, but it only seemed to reopen the cuts and traumatize her all over again. So now we’re just keeping her isolated and making sure the wound stays basically clean and dry.

Ida, meanwhile, isn’t able to hang out with Lady Bird and also can’t be left along with the adults. So for her I did what I wish I’d done in the first place: I bought a dog enclosure at a pet store and put it inside the chicken run, wrapping chicken wire around it to keep the adults from flying over the top or reaching in. There’s a tarp on top to keep the rain out. It looks like the kind of chicken enclosure that the Unabomber would build, but it keeps her safe and it lets the adults get used to her without being able to actually kill her in cold blood.

Aren’t pets fun?

At the moment, Ida comes indoors to sleep at night (in a separate box) because it’s still pretty cold outside. We try to let the two chicks spend a little time together every day; chickens are social creatures and don’ t like isolation. Last night, Scott spread a tarp out in the living room and let them run around together while he kept an eye on them to make sure no picking took place. They were immeasurably happy in each other’s company. Lady Bird even tried to fly around a little. Clearly she felt better if she could spend some time with another bird.

As you can tell, our lives have become insanely complicated as a result of our stupidity. So please — don’t make the same mistake. If you’re introducing new chicks to a flock this year, follow the standard advice in all the chicken books and make some kind of wire enclosure inside the coop, no matter how complicated it sounds. Borrow a dog cage, fashion something out of chicken wire or rabbit fencing, use cinderblocks, old plywood, or whatever you have around. Just don’t do what we did.

We’re still not sure if Lady Bird will survive or if she will grow back normal skin and feathers. She might look bald and weird for the rest of her life. Don’t let her baldness and weirdness be in vain. Protect your chicks. Good luck.

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