Oh noes they like me, I chicken sit for them, it will be the bats that they want to get rid of.
The poor love is a chicken novice, in the keeping way of the word, trying to explain to a sobbing woman how to shove a prolapse back into place (a hen not her nor I) was not easy nor was breaking the news that as she (the hen) was an ex-battery hen even if she succeeded it was likely to re-occur and if she wasn't around the hen would likely be eviscerated by her other hens, the sobbing grew louder I offered her a tissue and a black sack. She had to get a farmer friend in to do the deed.
We should all have one of these to help us through the day like
Laughing Rooster
Or one of these!On September 10, 1945, farmer Lloyd Olsen of Fruita, Colorado, United States, had his mother-in-law around for supper and was sent out to the yard by his wife to bring back a chicken. Olsen chose a five-and-a-half-month-old cockerel named Mike. The axe missed the jugular vein, leaving one ear and most of the brain stem intact.[2][3]
Despite Olsen's botched handiwork, Mike was still able to balance on a perch and walk clumsily; he even attempted to preen and crow, although he could do neither. When the bird did not die, a surprised Mr. Olsen decided to continue to care permanently for Mike, feeding him a mixture of milk and water via an eyedropper; he was also fed small grains of corn. It is not recorded what was eaten for supper that night.
When used to his new and unusual center of mass, Mike could easily get himself to the highest perches without falling. His crowing, though, was less impressive and consisted of a gurgling sound made in his throat, leaving him unable to crow at dawn. Mike also spent his time preening and attempting to peck for food with his neck.[2]