Wednesday
night when I went out to lock Mabel in so the racoons and coyotes don’t get
her, I found her in a little clump beside the deck. I picked her up and took
her to her house and set her down. She was unable to stand up. I figured she
must have broken her leg, but I don’t know for sure. I moved her to the location
in which she likes to sleep. It’s been more than a month since she stopped
flying or hopping up to her roost. She’s remained on the floor and slept
beneath the ladder that holds the heat lamp in place.
This morning (Thursday), I went out
with crossed fingers and hoping really hard that Mabel had gone to that great
chicken ranch in the sky. Nope, she had managed to turn herself around and one
leg pretty much stuck out behind her. I put her food in front of her and left
the door open.
A couple of hours later, I went back
and she hadn’t eaten or moved even a little bit. I don’t know if you’ve ever
seen an old person who’s close to death…they look resigned and sad and patient
all at the same time. That’s how Mabel looks now. I picked her up and tried
putting her down on both feet. She stayed that way until I left, but I’m sure
she’s slumped to one side or the other now. I also ran my hand over her feathers and
she seemed to find that comforting…she closed her eyes.
I called Thor because they had
chickens a few years ago and he had to put one of them down because she had
some kind of intestinal prolapse. I asked him if he could tell me how to ring
Mabel’s neck. He said you just kind of do it and that he would come tomorrow on
his way home from work. Then, I went online and looked it up. You are supposed
to hold the chicken by the feet, take hold of the head/neck, pull taught and
then lift up until the spine cracks. Well, that sounds horrible, especially if
her leg is broken. Wouldn’t that hurt like hell?
I’ve joked about Mabel and how she’s
the chicken that won’t die. Now, the time has come and it’s not funny anymore.
I’m feeling really awful. If I leave her, will she die by tomorrow? She’s not
eating and there’s no water in her shed…I should take her some. I feel bad
thinking she’s just there and in pain. On the other hand, the idea of ending
her life makes me feel just as bad…the tears are already brimming at the edge
of my eyes.
Haley and I have also been texting. I
called her last night to tell her I thought Mabel was in trouble. The first
thing Haley does when she comes over is go find Mabel, pick her up and give her
some strokes. Last week Mabel nestled down in Haley’s lap and went to sleep. Mabel
is, after all, an old chicken. Haley has a call in to her dad…maybe he’ll stop
by on his way home.
I just took some water out to Mabel
and she’s moved from where I left her. She’s at the edge of the door with her
leg straight out behind her and listing to one side. I offered the water and
put her beak in it, but she wasn’t interested. Her food is still there
untouched.
So, I went for a late walk and tried
to buck up and find the courage to come back and deal with Mabel. I’m not sure
I heard or remember much of what my walking partner had to say today. I was
just steeling myself to do the deed. You know, all the old sayings, “Mabel had
a really good life.”; “You don’t want her to suffer needlessly.”; “Mabel’s time
has come and you need to be kind.”; etc., etc., etc.
I invited my walking partner in to see
the organization Haley has done in the garage and she also went out and bid Mabel
farewell. Mabel had moved since I was out there last. Not really moved, but slumped
over onto her side. She looked pitiful. I felt pitiful. Kathy left. I let the
dogs out and brought them back in. Then, I went to take care of Mabel.
It’s not easy to do something like
that, but I put on my big girl panties and did it. Mabel’s gone now and by my hands.
I seriously hope she understood I was doing my best to be kind to her one last
time. Still, she’s now dead and my tears are falling. There’s just so much
death these days and this one in particular hurts.