Where I come in my back door there's a small dresser with a few things on top of it. It's just a little shoe closet from Ikea but it's handy for putting things down on. On top of it there's always a small lamp, a pair of mittens or gardening gloves, depending on the season, and a bowl filled with black oil sunflower seeds for the chickens. Every time I go out the back door, I grab a handful and throw them into the chicken run.
The last week of December, just before Christmas I knew something wasn't right with Cuddles when she refused to eat them. I didn't get too upset because I'd nursed this little chicken back from the brink more than once. More than twice. So many times in fact that I'd stopped getting frantic when I saw she was sick because I knew with some antibiotics and syringe feeding for a few days she'd get better .
The last week in December, Cuddles didn't get better.
I got her 5 years ago from a long gone boyfriend who decided to surprise me with a box full of day old chicks on Easter morning. Obviously he isn't gone because of his inferior present buying skills. He was astonishingly good in that department. He even had the foresight to supply me with the one thing that would get me through his walking out the door one day. Cuddles.
She was the second smallest chicken in the box of 6 chicks, and even when she was fully grown she was still a lot smaller than the other chickens. I don't know how much experience you have with chicks but they're about as cute a thing as God ever made if you believe in that sort of thing. If not, ... she was as cute a thing as Disney could ever make.
Well this one chicken, the second smallest one as I said, took it upon herself to love me like her mama. She followed me around, clucked to be picked up and sat quietly and contentedly on my lap for as long as I could stand to sit there knowing there were about a billion things to be done around the house.
So when the fella left, she's what saved me. Not a therapist, not pills, not crying. Cuddles. A little brown chicken.
I sat for hours with her relaxed in my lap, her wing stretched down so I could rub the feathers under there. She'd settle in letting her eyes close, perfectly happy to keep me company until I decided it was time to tackle the world again.
I'd like to say it's because I'm special. Because I have some sort of other worldly chicken intuition but the truth is, it was her. That little chicken liked everyone. She settled into the tiny laps of kids from around the neighbourhood happily letting them inspect every inch of her, usually the first real livestock they'd ever been close to. She sat in the lap of a neighbour whose husband had just died and made her laugh.
She wasn't named Cuddles for nothin'.
Closing the door to the cold behind us, I laid Cuddles down in the makeshift coop I'd created for her in my mudroom. She wasn't well. She'd been living in the mudroom for 3 days so I could constantly check on her and keep her body temperature up. I wondered if she wouldn't be happier inside the regular coop with her friends, so that afternoon I had placed her back outside with them. It was cold that night and she didn't have the energy to even jump up on her roost so I brought her back in.
I put a small heater in the mudroom, covered the floor with towels to warm it up a bit and made a little nesting box out of some straw and an old wood butter box. I got her all fed and warmed up then gave her another syringe of antibiotics. I tucked a bit more straw into her nesting box, put Cuddles inside, gave her a little kiss on the head and told her it was O.K. She could go.
I knew when I woke up she'd be gone.
I didn't sleep most of the night and when I finally gave up and came padding downstairs at around 6 in the morning she lifted her head up and looked right at me.
I'll take this moment to confess that I hoped all night long that Cuddles would die. That I'd wake up and it would be over. My stress, her misery ... all of it. You can judge me if you want but I could not, under any circumstances kill her myself. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't have chopped her head off any more than I could have chopped my own mother's head off.
I picked Cuddles up, gave her a bit of food and some water which she ate on her own, and brought her into the living room with me where I sat with her for the morning.
At 12:30 that afternoon I called a local vet. I may not have been able to do it, but it had to be done. I scheduled an appointment to have her euthanized.
I was to bring her in at 6:00 p.m. that Friday night just as the vet's office was closing.
These had been really tiring, stressful days filled with trying to keep her alive, Christmas planning and the general freak show that is the holiday season. When I called the vet's office at 5 o'clock to make sure the vet who was putting Cuddles down was back from his house calls the receptionist (who I'd had really unfortunate dealings with earlier in the day) said, Oh No. He's not here. I don't think he's coming back.
I explained that I had an appointment to have my pet put down. He was coming back to the office especially for me. She sympathetically said "I dunno. I don't think he's coming back though. Maybe he can see you on Monday.". I very unpolitely asked if maybe she could CALL THE MAN AND FIND OUT????
This particular receptionist didn't seem all that concerned that I had a dying animal in my lap and I'm not sure what her true vocation in life is but I can tell you right now it isn't being a receptionist at an animal hospital. I seriously doubt if she has the common sense to plant peanuts for a living.
At 10 minutes to 6 o'clock I finally called back when I never heard from the receptionist again. "Yeah, no he's not coming back, she said. You'll have to reschedule for Monday." I asked once again if she'd actually spoken to him and got some sort of non answer from her at which point I told her she was an idiot and hung up on her. I also swore. And I'd do it all over again. She was an idiot who made an already horrible situation almost unbearably worse.
It was Friday night at 6 o'clock. No other vet would even be open. And even if they were, finding a vet who would be willing to put a chicken down was never going to happen. Putting anything avian down is very different than a dog or cat. It's harder.
Cuddles was going to have to struggle on her own until Monday, looking up at me like I could do something about it, and me knowing I could ... but just didn't have it in me to do it.
Then it hit me. That vet that gave me a bit of advice about Cuddles before. He was actually a cat vet but he's a poultry judge who has chickens himself, and he worked part time at a Cat Clinic not far from where I live.
I looked up the number and called right away. The receptionist answered and told me yes, Dr. Camilleri was working that day but they were closed. I explained the situation to her. I blurted out everything about Cuddles and how I knew it seemed stupid because she was a chicken but she was a pet an she was suffering and another vet had just cancelled on me and I'd been trying to help her for days and she just needed help otherwise she'd be like this all weekend.
Then she said, You know what? Let me call you back in a minute.
And she did.
Dr. Camilleri told me to come up right away. He understood and he wouldn't go anywhere until I got there with Cuddles. I picked Cuddles up in her butter box and walked her out to the car. It was dark by now and everything is worse in the dark but I felt more relieved than I had in days.
With one act of selflessness, one act of kindness this man who I'd never met, turned my day completely around.
It took about 12 minutes to get to the clinic. I carried Cuddles inside, and walked her up to the reception desk, apologizing for looking like such a mess and for making them stay late. The receptionist couldn't have been nicer or more sympathetic.
Dr. Camilleri came out and said what a beautiful bird Cuddles was and examined her a bit. He felt here and there, looking for fluid build up and feeling her breastbone to see how thin she was. After looking at her he let me know I was doing the best thing for her.
We took her into the examination room and he looked at her a bit more while I held her. He explained what he was going to do and how putting a chicken to sleep is a bit trickier but he'd make sure it wasn't stressful for her. The Dr. took her out of the room to give her a sedative to keep her calm and get rid of any anxiety she would be feeling.
When he came back with her, Cuddle's eyelids were starting to close, the way they did when she relaxed into my lap.
Once she was close to being asleep Dr. Camilleri took a tiny needle and pierced her skin.
Not long after that Cuddles was gone.
I had Cuddles cremated and had the ashes returned to me in an urn. She's the first pet I've ever done that with.
The day I brought her ashes home I was cleaning up the mudroom a little bit. A good cleaning because it had snowed and there was mud in the mudroom of all things.
As I bent down to wipe under that little dresser with the bowl of sunflower seeds on it I found a single brown feather. A tiny, little downy feather from Cuddles' last night with me.
I picked it up, walked into the next room and tucked the feather into the ribbon that wraps around her urn. It sticks out just behind a minuscule little wood plaque that reads "Cuddles".
My little chicken.
Thank you for making me feel sad, and sorry, Karen.
Thank you for having the courage to share this. I have not cried this much since going through something similar. You made the hardest of calls, to put Cuddles comfort ahead of your own heart. You are a good chicken mum and a kind and good person.
Great.. now I'm crying. Thankfully, the kids are in bed and The Dad is out with the boys. So I shall feel your sorrow fully.
That's the best. I hate stifle crying. ~ karen!
That is the most beautiful love story ever! Thank you for sharing.
Release. That's what it's about. You've finally spoken and we heard. Once upon a time my love and fiancé was diagnosed with MS around the same time my mama was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I gave up my fiancé to England where came his help and nursed my mother here. I began a new relationship with the father of my son and became pregnant. My son was born with Hydrocephalus in utero, water around the brain and doctors said to come in and take him out because he would be born dead. He didn't die but we struggled with hospitals and seeing a lot of suffering, shunt surgery at 10 days old and seizures that I thought would kill him. We saw other children suffering in so many different ways. Our son was finally diagnosed with Autism. He has gifts I will not share entirely until I understand how he feels about them. My mother passed away when he was one year old. Two sickies in bed together, memories of that last year. I've been to hell but I came back. Bad things happen to make way for the new. A new Understanding of life on this planet. So you understand loss, even if it's an animal, no difference. It's horrible but you are now stronger and know where true love lies and you've made important friendships because of it. 2 years ago my husband fist bumped my son's neurologist and surgeon Jouvert morning ( carnival Monday morning mass). I don't expect any response to me sharing this, because only those who have seen can understand and that's really ok. Cuddles had a special mom. And life was great with you, period. That's all we ever need from life is to have a good one while we are here. Right now I'm fighting with my foundation to provide therapy for ASD kids in need, as I live in a third world nation with little knowledge of Autism, and wanting to adopt a little boy who was left home alone by his father when he was 3 years old, Austistic and motherless. My OT wants him too so we're looking for lawyers to help us. He lives in the paediatric ward and is in restraints for most part of the day. Life is sh*t but the great ones strive to make it better for others. You do that everyday with this blog. Great watercolour by the way, came out almost as good as mine. ?
Many people might say, Just a chicken, but we know differently, Every living creature has its own personality. And Cuddles was a loving chicken! It was a mutual affection where you both gave and received enormous love.
I sat one afternoon in my neighbors yard with her chickens. It was fun to watch how they interacted. I did five small paintings attempting to show their personalities. The small series I titled Chicken Sh*t. I wish I could send you pictures of my paintings but your blog does not allow for that.
I am a bit of a crazy artist and I once photographed a bird that flew into my window and died. I photographed his beautifully colored wings and delicate feet and set it to music. My family thought I was nuts, but for me I felt I was honoring the beauty and joy this and other lovely bird bring into my life and the world .
I respect the compassion you and many people like you have for your pets. To some she may be just a chicken, but given a chance with an open heart," Love" enters and can save the world.
Now please pass the Kleenex.
Your story about Cuddles brought me to tears. I am so glad you had her as a pet. God bless you and Cuddles!
Oh the tears. Karen I'm so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing her story with us. I always loved hearing about Cuddles and even named one of my sister's chickens after her. Though my sister should be banned from ever owning anything living again....we won't go there. I'm so deeply touched by her story and the caring vet that made things easier, or as easy as they could be. The kindness and compassion of a good veterinarian and their staff can not be understated.
Never in all my years did I think I would cry over a chicken. But Cuddles? The special one she was and what she meant to you? Tears shed.
And that feather is a gift I'm glad you received.
Man Karen,
My husband just walked in the room and said "Are you ok? What's wrong?" I said "Karen's Cuddles died." He just looked at me and with a big smile and said "You have to post a comment to your fellow Chicken Girl!" Here I am waiting for your post on Cuddles crying on a Friday evening. That receptionist!!!!....Like my sister and I always say, we want to just Pow! Bam! beat the crap out of those kind of people.
So wonderful of Cuddles to leave you a sign that she's with you!
Thanks Karen for sharing!!!!!
Oh, my goodness, Karen! As soon as I read the title, I thought, "Get out the handkerchief! That's gonna make me cry!" And it did. What a stressful time for you. Cuddles was an amazing, unusual chicken and you were both lucky that she ended up with you. I'm so sorry that she is gone. Lots of hugs!
Karen, sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing.
I'm so sorry to hear about Cuddles.
So sorry for your loss Karen. Your heartbreak truly shone through the story of Cuddles. Sending you a virtual hug.
Our pets leave us too soon. We'll all miss Cuddles.
Karen, I'm so sorry. I feel the same way about my chickens and have recently said goodbye to my favourite, Selma, in exactly the same way. Hens are all different and truly do have their own personalities. Cuddles was a real character. Luckily for me I had a lovely vet and sensitive receptionist from the start. I can't imagine how horrible it must have been to go through that first bit. Don't use them again! A beautifully written tribute. I'm crying my eyes out. Hope you are feeling a bit better now :)
I'm crying with you......
God bless and comfort you. ♥️♥️?
Thank you for not stopping in your quest to give your feathered friend a peaceful and loving transition. I felt that story in my heart; I wrote a similar piece about the loss of a furry companion. The story will stay with me and everyone who reads it; her legacy.
I am sobbing - I know what it is to hope (pray if you believe in that kind of thing) that a beloved pet will die in the night so that I do not have to proactively be the one to initiate the end. I don't have chickens but I'm tempted to subscribe to Dr. Camilleri's magazine just to show gratitude for his compassion to you.
Thank you for sharing your experience; I'm sitting here in tears. The love and truth you tell resonates strongly and with integrity. You showed up for her when she needed you and that's all any of us can do. I hope your love for Cuddles and your good memories bring you lasting comfort. Love never ends.