CockadoodleMoo.org

I still get a lump in my throat when I think of honey, she was a very special bird, the kind of bird you think of often and affectionately.

She was a peoples bird and never did find her place within the flock, It didn't help that she had medical issues from the day we got her. She would be introduced and have to be pulled from the flock for medical treatment.

The first sign that something was wrong was her large, swaying crop; it was so large that she stooped forward when she walked and the crop almost dragged the ground. At first we thought she was a new breed of chicken and maybe she would grow into her crop. Then one day her crop became huge and she started open-mouth breathing so we got her to a vet.

The vet’s conclusion was that the crop was filled with rocks. Honey was too underweight to go under anesthesia for surgery to remove the rocks so she would need to be indoors and isolated until she fattened up. We were to massage the crop to move the food around and aid digestion. Meanwhile, we pondered a $600 surgery bill. 

After a couple of weeks in isolation the crop became jelly-like, and one day when carrying her, she projectile vomited. It came out the mouth, nose and eyes — this was very traumatic for me but Honey took it in stride.

We made another vet appointment for the next morning. The vet was booked so we spent hours playing with Honey while we waited in an exam room. We broke up small pieces of dog biscuits and played tug with her as she leaped for wet paper towels.

This time, the vet needed to remove fluid from the crop to see why it was stopped up since the rocks seem to have passed. First they tried sticking a needle into the crop but the fluid was too viscus, so the vet put a tube down her throat and drained about 16 ounces of beige fluid. They examined it and found two kinds of infections. The good news was that Honey wouldn’t need surgery for the rocks. We were shown create a bra to hold up the crop in order to help food pass. And we were given two prescriptions. 

A month later Honey started looking off. She would listlessly stand in the doorway of a crate or in the corner of the isolation pen when I would go to bring her and Ginger inside at night. Honey is usually the kind of girl who runs to the fence when you call her. She races Ginger to be the first inside, and this new behavior was alarming. I decided that maybe the cold was too much for her, so I put her and Ginger in my bathroom and moved my toothbrush to Mark's bathroom.

By the following weekend, Honey started getting lethargic, eating less and less, sleeping more and more. Her enormous crop seemed to drag her body down. We gave her more high protein crumbles, we aided her in vomiting up the liquid trapped in her crop, and we made sure she had fluids. After three days I came home to find that Honey had died with Ginger watching over her body. 

I am grateful that she wasn't alone and that she didn't seem to be in pain. I will miss playing tug of war with her and having her great me every time she saw me. She was a remarkable bird.

When we first got Honey her crown and waddle were pale

Honey blossomed into such a beauty.

Honey at the vets, shows us her true personality

One of honeys vets visits shows removing the fluid from her 

distended crop

Honey will be dearly missed.