Brian's Story

(The chicks are fine and feathering out and running all over the yard with Mama Hen in this beautiful Spring weather. I will post pictures and updates soon. The past 2 weeks have kept me busy with our new baby, Brian, who died yesterday, 2 weeks and 2 days after we rescued him. This is a tribute post for him because, well, we owe it to him.)


     In the first 9 months of living here on the farm we have had to bury 3 dogs. Jack, our sweet black lab, Addie, my best friend ever and a dog for whom there will never be a replacement, and poor, sweet Brian, just yesterday due to canine distemper virus (cdv). He didn't have to die from cdv. It's the very first vaccination a dog gets in life but an irresponsible dog owner neglected to do it.

I fell in love with this very picture of Brian when I saw it on Facebook. A friend from high school posts a lot of shelter animals to help them find homes and I couldn't quit thinking about this big sweet hound's face.  He was in West Virginia, though, and a long way from Indiana.  I called my sister who lives closer to him and she said she could help and before I knew it the ball was rolling and we were adopting this big boy.
     According to county rules, though, he couldn't be released to me until he was neutered and then I would have to pick him up that day or pay for the vet to keep him overnight and he would have to endure the 8 hour ride a day after surgery.  I hated to do that to him but they had told me it was his last day in the shelter. He was to be put to sleep (pts) on that Saturday.  They had just gotten 30 more dogs in that day and his time was up, they needed the room. And they needed the money up front.  I overnighted the money to them for the adoption fee which included the neuter and his shots.  (The cdv shot would come too late for him).

     He was neutered that Friday as a work-in and then he was taken back to the shelter. In hindsight, I should have overruled this but the vet they used for the neuter wasn't going to be open on Saturday so he had to go back to the dirty shelter after his neuter.  My sister picked him up Saturday and I met her in Kentucky for the transfer. He was as sweet as his picture seemed to show. A big lug of a dog and all he wanted was rubbed on the head and he was constantly leaning into us.
     In his first 24 hours he had about five different names. He was Chuck for a while and that one stuck longest until we settled on Brian.  He was Max, Sam, Murphy, Bo and Gus.  But he was just so laid back and enjoyed a good stretch on the recliner or the couch that he really needed a laid back name. Brian it was. We laughed and laughed about his name and I didn't really think it would stick either, but Stan insisted and he learned it quickly.

Getting to know his new sister, Gracie.

In dad's chair right off the bat.

    He was far too skinny for me and I couldn't wait to see him eat and put some weight on. And then his testicles blew up. A few days after we got him home he developed an infection in his sac. We took him to the Vet and it ruptured in the office. We went home with pain meds and anti-biotics.  We kept him on the lead when we were out so that he wouldn't be too active and let himself heal.  We took long walks around the pond and he was so much fun to walk with.
     When he first saw the chickens he slipped out of my grip (because he was so laid back I didn't have a tight hold on his leash) and was off chasing them. It's a good thing he ran more like a great dane than a greyhound. I was able to grab the leash on the second time around the bushes as he gave chase to a few hens. I scolded him a bit and it turned into a teachable moment for us both. I hold tighter until he knows what he's doing on the farm and he learns his first chicken lesson--not to eat them. He learned that really fast as well and he was turning out to be such a promising addition to the family.
     We eventually walked the pond without his lead and he began going out at night with Gracie, his cock-a-poo sister and chasing the blackbirds around the cattail pond, Gracie's favorite thing to do since she is banned from the chicken yard when they are out. Some dogs are not trainable in this let's-get-along-with-the-chickens thing.

Brian and Gracie sharing the twin bed in the office--never
far from Mom.

     Brian's only good Saturday he spent with us was an awesome one.  The grandkids came over to go fishing and the boys took advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and went swimming in the pond. Brian got so excited I thought he would bust. He had come into the shelter in WV as a stray and I think he may have belonged to a man or someone with boys. He followed me everywhere but he gravitated to Stan and when Jayden, our 11 year old grandson was here, it was love at first sight.

Jayden made sure to tell me, "Nanny, you KNOW this is my dog, right?" They were so cute together. But Brian wasn't exactly all that fond of the water so when the boys went swimming he proceeded to run--and this time he DID run like a greyhound--around that 3 acre pond in laps. He was amazing to watch that night and he couldn't wait for Jayden to come back in.

     I think he may have overdone it that day and in hindsight I'm so glad he did. I'm glad we let him run with the boys that night and have his fun on the farm.  In a little over a week he would be gone.

     Brian developed a fever and got quite lethargic after that Saturday and I thought it might be the infection coming back after his run.  I took him to the Vet and she thought he might still have the infection as well and his sac continued to drain just a little. He also had some goop in his eyes (another symptom of the CDV) and we started him on meds for that.  The Vet and the Vet-techs loved him, too.  He loved on them and they loved on him. He did his 'lean on me' thing and they were smitten with our big, sweet hound. We got him some different antibiotics and metronidazol to help his stomach through the large doses of antibiotics he was taking and more stuff for his eyes. They had ulcers forming in them.  In the next few days he would alternate between good and bad days and on Friday when he went for a follow-up he seemed to be coming along but slowly. But he wouldn't eat and continued to lose weight. We thought it was from the pain he was probably experiencing and the upset stomach from the meds but he was getting frighteningly skinny at that point and the Vet had me switch him to cottage cheese and rice. He seemed to enjoy that. As soon as we returned from the Vet that day, though, he started having chewing gum seizures. He would work his jaw like he had something caught in his mouth or a piece of chewing gum stuck on his teeth. His face would draw up, though and his eyes that had been painful and squinty from the ulcers, had gotten huge and bulging.  He was drooling buckets of slobber the likes of which I had never seen.  I thought he might dehydrate just from the slobbering.  I rushed him back into the vet and it was decided he was suffering from a hypersensitivity toxicity to the metronidazol, something she had only ever seen once and it presented itself in the same manner.  (After all, this dog had his shots, right?)  The effects were supposed to wear off within three days.  So, I took him home Friday night with valium (I think they threw in a few extra for me at this point) for the seizures and a number for the emergency veterinary hospital in Indianapolis should he get worse because after all, it was Friday.  And don't all emergencies with the pets happen on the weekend?

     We gave Brian water through a plastic syringe a few drops at a time that night to help keep him hydrated. He wouldn't lie down. The valium--the strongest you can get-- didn't work on him in the least. I estimated he stood on his feet for close to 30 hours. He began to be skittish around me and anyone else who came near him but he remained sweet at all times. He was so hypersensitive that he couldn't be touched without feeling pain. Yet he miraculously let me medicate him. At least most of the time. I won't lie, either, I worried a little bit what he might do in this condition. A scared dog could do about anything. And a scared dog in pain might be a recipe for something to go horribly wrong. So I used caution and talked sweetly to him and only handled him when I had to. We made him his own hospital room in the house and it was quiet and I went in every few hours to check on him and give him drinks. 

     Saturday morning came and he was no better. The constant standing up was freaking me out. I loaded him in the truck and we headed to the emergency vet in Indy.  This is where we got the CDV diagnosis although he still wasn't ruling out the toxicity. His prognosis was bleak. He was either going to show signs of improvement in 48 hours or it would be the CDV and it was euthanasia for him. There is no cure. There is, however, prevention in the form of an extremely inexpensive puppy vaccine. I wanted to punch someone. The emergency vet said there was no wonder it wasn't caught sooner because it's so rare. Both he and my Vet had only seen one case each in all their years BECAUSE RESPONSIBLE PET OWNERS VACCINATE. Sorry to yell. I get a little touchy when I see a dog die such a horrible and painful death when there was no reason for it.

Brian having fun with the boys

He loved to lay in the sun on the deck
but it was painful for his eyes.

     They gave him about a litre of fluids in an IV and a powerful antibiotic. And still more meds. The bills were becoming ridiculous and as patient as my husband is he was getting a little antsy at best. I could see it, but he never said anything, God bless him.  That afternoon I got Brian to lay down on his big, comfy bed. His tremors had stopped and he would let me love on him again.  It gave me hope that it was the reaction to the meds and not the CDV.  I got on Facebook and let my prayer warriors over at www.anunslife.org know so they could start praying with me and I let the rescue volunteers know as well because they all worked so hard to get Brian a home and were always asking how he was. He had so many people praying for him and sending good energy and positive vibes during his final days but it just wasn't enough.  Sunday night he developed the seizures again and it was evident this was what it was. He had distemper. It is the most horrible way for any dog to go but watching that beautiful dog suffer like that was agonizing. He couldn't breath and sounded like he had developed pneumonia. So first thing Monday morning we wrapped him in a blanket and put him in the truck and went to our Vet. She euthanized him in the truck in the parking lot.  She bawled. I bawled. Stan bawled. It was a crime as far as I'm concerned.  It didn't need to happen. Shelters should vaccinate these dogs on the way in, not the way out. 

Please spay, neuter and vaccinate your dog. Shelters are full of unwanted pets who are healthy and need a home. This will in no way deter me from rescuing another dog someone threw away or turned out because it wasn't a fit for their lives anymore.  They deserve the life they were promised when that person first took them in. 

     Failure to vaccinate is neglect in every way.

     Brian got to enjoy a few good days on the farm. He was robbed of a lifetime. So I owe this post on this little chicken blog to him. Even if only a hand full of people ever read it. I know I will never forget him or his big sweet face. 

     Run on Brian... 

Out of the Brooder!

The Chicks were one week old on Saturday.  Their wings have feathered out nicely which means they can get by with a little less body heat from Mama Hen. They are much more active and were running all over the brooder/nursery on their one week birthday. This must be the reason she decided to move them out of it and back into the coop and with the flock. She did this yesterday evening at some point because when we went to put them up for the night she was in the coop with the rest of the flock and she had her babies snuggled under her.

Hello World. 

Proud Mama

 I've been waiting for them to be able to be out of that brooder and into this warm sunshine, anyway. And they really do seem to enjoy it. At one week they are sun bathing and dust bathing and scratching for grains. And their little fluffy butts are clean, which is a real issue with chicks. A case of 'pasty butt' can kill them. And they preen, just like Mama and just like little girl chicks do.

'The girls'

"Ooooh, boy does that sun ever feel good."

 You might notice I use the feminine a lot when I talk about the chicks. Truth is I have no idea of the sex of either of them but we like to think positively. The last time we hatched our own eggs in an incubator we got 7 hatches and 5 were boys.

"Right here, girls! Here's a tasty one."

"Yeah, um... we're staying in the big house
 now.  Make a note of it."

We talked about moving her back to the brooder until they were at least another week older but if that's where she wants them that's where she will move them every day. I worry about the older hens hurting or killing them and definitely worry about the rooster.  This morning, though, it was business as usual letting them out of the coop and the babies were running around the coop floor while Mama Hen scratched around showing them what to eat. The other adults completely ignored them. All they were focused on was getting out of there to start their day.

Feathered wings will help her stay warm and less dependent
on Mom's body heat.

Attentive Mama

So now, Mama Hen is scratching around the pen area and taking them around the yard but staying very close to the coop where they can run for cover if they need to. PeeWee, the rooster, came around a few times today and she does her best to run him off. The chicks duck under the coop and Mama Hen puffs herself up and  warns him not to come any closer. It's amazing to watch and nerve wracking all at the same time. I keep thinking they are so little it wouldn't take much for that rooster to kill one if he got ahold of it.  But this is nature. And deciding to let nature take it's course allows for all sorts of things to happen.  From what we've seen so far, she has been a pretty good Mother and there shouldn't be much to worry about. Actually, after the way I've seen her act when any of the other chickens come around, especially PeeWee, I feel honored that she doesn't seem to mind me coming over to visit and get my camera all up in her business. But it must be because of all the peanuts and meal worms I've given her.  There you go, PeeWee... wine and dine her with peanuts.

Here is a video of Mama Hen "persuading" PeeWee to think twice.

Just Cuteness!

Mama Hen seems to be such a good Mother!  AJ came over today to visit them and we got both chicks out to hold for a second. They are just too cute not to pick up at least twice a day. We had them for just a second before MH bit me on the finger. It didn't hurt and she didn't bite down. She merely reached out and held my finger in her beak for just a moment; a warning that time was up. So we handed them back to her. They are growing so fast and they have gotten so fast that they are already hard to catch in the brooder. It won't be long before she has them out in the yard.

The brooder/nursery is a little dark so the lighting isn't the greatest. You can hear her growling a bit and checking out the camera (phone).   I fed her peanuts and she gave them to the chicks.

They are getting a little rambunctious. The water was over turned so while they ate the peanuts I re-filled that. So, they ate peanuts (they also have plenty of medicated starter feed and they eat that at will), got their bellies' full and when I came back with fresh water they drank for a long time and moved back under Mama Hen.

Two Day Old Chicks

The chicks are two days old.
Yesterday I went out about midmorning to see if the other two eggs were going to hatch for us and Mama Hen had moved off of those two eggs and she and her two babies were in the pen outside the coop.  I felt the eggs and they had already gotten cold--there was no point in trying to save them.
I needed to get Mama Hen and the two chicks to the "nursery brooder" before trouble ensued.

Mama Hen--keeping her babies warm in the pen.

Which is when trouble did, indeed, ensue.
PeeWee the Rooster came around to find her off the nest for the first time in three weeks and proceeded to do "the dance" around her.  She was having none of that and she puffed up as big as she could get herself and growled and clucked at him and finally she ran off and out of the pen like a shot, leaving the babies in the cold and alone.
My pen for the chickens is only about 3 and a half feet tall so running in there wasn't an option. Crawling slowly was. But no running in there for me. Luckily, PeeWee followed her out. I don't know if he would kill his own offspring or not but I didn't want to take a chance.  Some say the other adults will do that and it isn't something I'd want to watch.  And I like to think that she ran off of them to purposely lure him away from them. But who knows.  She does seem to be awfully protective of them.
Andrew, our 6 year old grandson, came out about then so I sent him in the pen on a rescue mission.  He was able to get one of the chicks and bring her to me and I picked up Mama Hen, who was still running around outside the pen, and they both went into the brooder next door while Andrew and I tried to round up the other chick.  But while we were doing that Mama Hen left her chick in the "nursery brooder" and came frantically around the coop looking for the other one.  It was pretty cold out yesterday and I knew these chicks would not survive long without the warmth from their Mother.  It didn't take the two of them long to find each other. The peeps from the baby called out a distress signal and Mama found her right away and covered her with her warm body. I went to retrieve the other baby from the "nursery brooder" and brought her back to the pen where Mama Hen was and the two of them found each other as well. I watched the little thing toddle and peep and Mama Hen found a patch of scratch and chortled and clucked softly as she ate next to this chick, encouraging it to do the same.  Nature at it's finest--a Mother teaching her young to eat. We re-grouped to plan phase two of Operation: Rescue Hen and Chicks from the Elements.  It was supposed to snow and they couldn't just sit outside but I imagine she was trying to get the babies closer to the food and water.  I couldn't send Andrew in after Mama. I didn't want her to peck him so it was my turn to try.
By now Stan had shown up to help. And so had the rest of the flock. OK, they really weren't there to help. They were just being nosy about all of the commotion and they all came over to watch the show.  I got down and crawled to the back of the pen and picked up Mama. She didn't protest too much, either.  I had been feeding her peanuts by the handfuls since she was old enough to eat them so I guess she didn't mind me messing with her.  When I picked her up there were no babies under her but I saw four little tiny feet protruding from under her wings. This was almost too cute to even stand and I wished I had crawled in there with the camera. Just as soon as I saw the feet though, one tumbled out onto the straw so I gave her a little shake and the other one came falling out. I tucked Mama Hen under one arm and grabbed the babies and  handed them to Stan and we got all three settled into the brooder-nursery where she was able to be alone and not worry about chicks falling from a high nest and with water and food close by.

The chicks come out long enough to eat  and then run back under Mom to get warm again. 

(The final two eggs were discarded. One had not developed at all and was only yolk. The other one probably needed just a few more hours, maybe a day. But her two young ones were probably getting to be too active for her to remain in the nest.)

Chicks!!

Two so far and still sitting on two eggs

Well, we have two baby chicks. So far, so good. And so cute!  And glad to have them here for Andrew's weekend.  Mama hen continues to sit on two eggs and double-tasks keeping the two babies from getting too active and falling from the nest. I took her a handful of peanuts, her favorite treat. She practically inhaled most of them then held one in her mouth, hiked her butt in the air and softly clucked to her babies. They came stumbling out from under her in their fuzzy newness and one latched onto her waddles and wouldn't let go. She shook her head and the little one held on tight, swinging. She shook again and the little one went tumbling over her back. She went back to her task of chewing up the peanut for them to eat...

Mama hen chewing up food for her babies

... And they love peanuts!