Even Steven

 

 

 

I was only a casual Seinfeld fan back in the day, but one of the things that stuck with me was 'Even Steven'.  Sort of how I can never be 'up' or in the positive for too long before something happens to even things out, or subtract.  If only there was an exposure compensation button for life, like there is on my camera. I guess you could say that's simply attitude, or the colour of your glasses.  But sometimes I just can't help my interpretation of life data points.  I'm pretty good at identifying trends.

We've been looking forward to shearing day, one of our biggest days of the year on our farm.  Sort of like the first tomato you harvest, or the day that incubating eggs start to pip.  It's a big deal!  It had snowed ~10 inches overnight, and the shearer called me that morning to see if we were still a go.  I told her that if the roads were safe then I'd like to go ahead with it.  G had already been out early fixing the sheep door, and putting together our shearing shed made of pallets.  I had supplies to gather for the 'just in case' scenarios, amputating Prince's horn, etc.  I was all dressed to go out in the cold and get on with our big day when I discovered our sweet little guinea hen Daughter of Chaos dead in her cage down in the basement.  I was shocked and saddened by this turn of events.  I'd just been holding her the day before, giving her meds, fresh greens and some boiled egg as a treat.  Her breathing had been getting worse after a brief period of improvement, and I was already consulting my vet friend about altering her medication and coming in for an xray.  I did a brief exam and found blood in her mouth, coming from her trachea. Not surprising.

 



 

 

I covered her up so the other guineas wouldn't continue to stare, and figured I'd have to necropsy her later.  It's just so disappointing that after her severe frostbite, medicating and bandaging and getting her through the loss of those digits, padding the perches in their coop, and watching her learn to grip and balance and perch so wonderfully despite her handicap that she should die from a respiratory disease. 

 

So after shearing was over I necropsied her the best I could, not being very experienced with bird necropsies.  Her lungs looked congested and I thought they had tiny blood clots in them.  In her trachea I found a small yellow chunk of something I couldn't identify.  It wasn't fixed.  My only three ideas are that she inhaled a piece of cracked corn weeks ago (I've read about turkeys dying in such a way), it was abcess material dislodged from her lungs, or less likely would be aspergillus.  Either way, I'm very sad about it. 

 

I'm sorry, little one.