Roo-gery

Keeping chickens can be a lot of work. It doesn't have to be, and although I am obviously quite an animal lover, I am not always in favor of extraordinary measures in all cases. The following will probably seem extraordinary but more because of the "surgeon's" role I took on myself than the cost, effort, or danger to the animal. Without going into a long philosophical dissertation on my personal parameters for which animal deserves what treatment, I will share that my bottom line is that no animal in my care is allowed to be in pain. Sometimes that means letting go, and other times it means treatment. Treatment was my answer for Argalus the rooster.

Argalus is a big Partridge Cochin, and that means his feet are "booted." They grow feathers along the outside of their shanks to the end of their outer toes. His large size coupled with the feathers can lead to some foot problems. He has had scaly leg mites for just about ever, and we've treated with Vaseline or Bag Balm rubs many times. Just typing the word "mites" makes me itchy, but these particular kind are very chicken-leg-specific, and I've never actually seen one but have seen the raised, lumpy scales as evidence. Some of the hens have had the same problem, but since their legs do not also have boots, they take to the petroleum jelly cure much better. Leg mites aren't what this surgery was about, however. This was about something called Bumblefoot.

The last time we treated for leg mites, I noticed a spot on the bottom of one of Argie's feet. In the red light from my headlamp, it looked like dirt, but when I tried to pick it off, it resisted, and blood began to seep from the side of it. (blood in red light looks black, but is just as disconcerting as when it's red in white light and you're not expecting it) Having read the chicken website obsessively, I knew I was looking at the black spot of Bumblefoot, which is a staph infection, and requires a bit of knife work to remove. I had already read and studied online instructions and photos of the surgery, and I felt pretty confident that it was something I could do.

I scheduled the surgery for o'dark-thirty last night.

The Hawthouse was the natural operating theatre, and I set up the Poultry M*A*S*H unit there. I was going to have to operate solo since it was way past The Big Guy's bedtime, so I took great care to lay out everything I thought I might need.

All set up and sanitary! The radio was tuned to classical music to soothe the savage beast. I was more afraid the bear we saw last week in the field behind the Hawthouse would be the savage beast rather than Argie, and I must admit I was a little trepidatious about being out there in the dark by myself with a tasty chicken. Soldiering on, at about 10:30 pm, armed with two thermoses of hot water, I went out to prep the patient.

When I crawled into the coop, I was worried because none of the chickens seemed to be as asleep as I was hoping they'd be. The funny thing about chickens at night, though, is that their eyes can be open, they'll move their heads to look at you, but most of the fight has gone out of them. Knowing that Argie would try to peck me if he wasn't ready to be handled, I slowly reached toward him to gauge his response. Stupor! Nabbed! He kicked a little, but once I had him cuddled to my chest, he was calm, and we made our way out to the operating room.

Trying to take a picture in the dark while holding down a rooster isn't easy.

Ah, there he is, pretty boy. He's molting right now and doesn't look his Sunday best, but I really enjoyed being able to pet his silky feathers and give him a good once-over which is something I can't do during daylight hours unless I want to lose an eye or two. He stayed pretty still on the operating table, until I tried to soak his foot in the Epsom saltwater. He kicked over the first dish, drenching the towel and my leg, but I was able to maneuver his foot better and keep him still for the second try.

Here is his scrubbed foot. You can barely see the bumble-spot on the middle pad. I won't upset anyone with gory pictures because as it turned out, the surgery didn't get as gory as I'd anticipated. Once I'd trimmed the scab off, it was apparent that there was no underlying "plug" of infection. That was great news, but then I felt kinda bad that I'd removed a perfectly good scab, although you should all know that even if I'd had to cut into his foot more, chickens indicate very little feeling of pain. I did notice, though, that rather than some of his foot feathers missing due to his molt, several of them were broken to the quick and bleeding a little after the soak. More research would have to be done later about this discovery.

After bandaging up the first foot, I scrubbed the second, but there was no sign of infection in that one.

It was a good opportunity for a little spur-filing, though, then I treated both legs with a fresh coat of Vaseline to thwart those pesky mites.

All better! See his little bandage? In a couple days, I'll remove the dressing and check to be sure he's healing properly. And because I know you're all curious, I researched the broken foot feathers, and they are most likely a by-product of the leg mite problem. Legs itch, rooster picks, feathers break, repeat. I will be trying a new treatment using Campho-Phenique which several online chicken folks say works really well. I hope for Argalus' sake that's true.

...to be continued.