Rescue, Rehab & Re-homing of Domesticated Chickens

Sparkle Duck is a hen with pumpkin-colored plumage who arrived at the sanctuary bedraggled and unable to do more than lift her head. She had been spotted by a student in a Future Farmers of America program (the second such hen in a year) lying on the floor of the coop, covered in her own waste, and unable to walk.

Per the program's protocol, Sparkle Duck was set to be “culled” (killed), but the student who found her begged the program’s director to let Sparkle Duck have a second chance at life.

“We’re all worried about her,” wrote the compassionate student. “But my teacher just told us she was going to die and laughed at us." With the optimism and fortitude of youth, the student managed to secure Sparkle Duck and ferry her four hours north to Hen Harbor.

Multiple vet visits and many diagnostic tests later, Sparkle Duck has gone from a virtually paralyzed, lice-ridden bag of feathers and bones to a vibrant, slightly visually- and mobility-impaired hen with a maniacal lust for grapes. As bits of her hectic past linger, Sparkle Duck heads to the vet again on Monday (the first day of spring and new life!) --along with Rumbler the turkey, Jumbo the ex-industrial laying hen with a fractured leg, and Cleo the grand, old senior hen.

For all these hens, a hormonal implant to shut down their ovaries -- thus stemming the inevitable tide of reproductive diseases that would otherwise kill them -- will be part of their healing routine. Spending $100 to implant one hen may sound a bit pricey, but the long-term payoffs of the investment are huge. Not only does it spare the sanctuary the financial burden of a $1200 surgery bill, but it spares the bird herself from the trauma of either invasive surgery or a painful, premature death via reproductive disease. And freeing a hen of the burden of egg-production allows her body to funnel energy into other tasks -- like healing.

“It’s a tiny playground for chickens!”
As important as meaningful veterinary care is to a bird’s well-being, equally so is secure and functional housing that defies the efforts of bobcats, hawks and coyotes. In the first three months of 2017 we invested significant time and (all-volunteer!) labor into shoring up holes in the fenceline and installing (long-overdue) aviary netting over more than 7,500 square feet of the birds’ enclosures.

When storms took out a huge tree on the property, volunteers crafted chicken jungle-gyms, perches, and climbing structures from branches and tree-trunk sections, particularly in the adoption yard, for birds awaiting transport to their new homes. “It’s like a tiny playground for chickens!” gushed a recent sanctuary visitor as she peered into the adoptive-hen yard.

Taking advantage of the recent historic rainfall in the area, we also strategically installed multiple, giant bamboo clumps throughout the yards to provide the chickens much-needed cover -- both from flying predators and from the impending heat of the midday summer sun. So far, the new foliage has been a hit, and each bamboo clump is never without its adornment of happy hens and their rooster guardians.

Looking ahead, volunteers are sketching out a new area for special-needs birds: blind hens, elderly birds, wimpy roosters, and mobility-impaired birds like Sparkle Duck, for whom the rigors of regular-chicken yard-life are too hectic.

It’s the Year of the Rooster!
Fiona, Gargantua, Forrest, Featherfoot, Autumn, and Orange Blossom are a cadre of roosters with a few things in common: All were discarded and left to die, simply for being born boys. All of them also grace the pages of Hen Harbor’s 2017 “Rescued Roosters” calendars -- the first effort of our new Rooster Outreach program. And what better time to raise public awareness about the plight of roosters than the Year of the Rooster?

Although proceeds from calendar sales went toward the ongoing care of sanctuary residents, the broader impact has been to nudge viewers toward a different perception of roosters -- one that sees them as interesting, complex companions rather than nuisances or unfortunate mistakes.

“What a wonderful way to raise consciousness about roosters,” remarked one calendar recipient.

“Friends have commented upon seeing the calendar that they had never really thought of roosters much … This beautiful calendar is a great way to start talking to people about the awfulness of the egg industry and even get them to take steps towards going vegan. Seeing the beauty and uniqueness of these birds touches their hearts.”

Links:

• Read an overview of our sanctuary
• follow the daily adventures of the Hen Harbor residents

A little over a month ago, I got an urgent message from a friend of a friend: A pair of hens had been abandoned inside a locked coop after their caretaker was evicted from a duplex in Oakland.  When contacted about the hens, their former caretaker responded, “They are not good anyway because they don’t lay eggs anymore.”

A few calls and texts later, Snow White and Rose Red were on their way to Hen Harbor. Emaciated and threadbare though they appeared upon arrival, they immediately threw themselves into the tasks of dustbathing and tilling the soil in search of delicious grubs -- the hallmark signs of any normal hen behavior.

However, it soon became apparent that all was not well with the two hens. Rose Red was pale and anemic, but Snow White, in particular, had an odd, upright stance, more reminiscent of a penguin than a chicken. Over the next few days, her penguin-like posture only got worse. 

Several trips to the vet and many tests later, a diagnosis began to take shape. First, we cured her enteritis with a course of antibiotics. Immediately she perked up and her appetite skyrocketed. But her increased vigor also triggered her reproductive tract into action, which brought with it its own set of problems. Her abdomen began filling up with fluid, full of egg material and bacteria. The condition: egg yolk perotinitis, coupled with a hernia of the abdominal wall. 

We know from experience that egg yolk perotinitis is extremely common in domesticated laying hens, and that up to 90 percent of them will die from it (or another form of reproductive disease). Hormonal treatments are one of the only ways to successfully treat the condition, so Snow White has started these treatments as well.  

Meanwhile, Snow White is recuperating with her (no-longer anemic) best mate Rose Red and several other special-needs hens -- Cleo the elderly arthritic hen, Pho the blind hen rescued from an industrial egg facility, and Sparkle Duck, the former school project hen who is learning to walk again -- in a special care area.  

Since these girls will always be more fragile than the rest, we are looking forward to constructing their own "special needs" yard and coop away from the main barn, in a shaded area closer to the house, which they will be able to enjoy in a few months when the weather warms up. As they continue to recuperate, we are looking forward watching them relax in their own special area, apart from the rest of the boisterous flock come spring.  

Making the commitment to bring an ailing neglected bird back to health is only posssilbe because of the support of compassionate community members who recognize that each rescued bird is an individual who deserves a peaceful place to retire after a liftetime of hardship and neglect.  In addition to special recuperation areas, the cost of lifesaving veterinary intervention for each individual can easily run into the thousands for these complex, delicate birds who are struggling to overcome the genetic obstacles that the egg industry has bred into them for the sake of profit. 

Constructing a yard for current and incoming special-needs birds, in addition to the ongoing care of 100+ other sanctuary birds, stands as a priority for funds raised. 

Links:

• Read an overview of our sanctuary
• see snapshots of daily life at the sanctuary on Facebook