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Sleepy was the littlest chick. He walked funny and he slept–a lot. The other chicks ran over Sleepy sometimes, even in the big new brooder where they all have plenty of room. The kids were the ones who named him Sleepy, and they loved him.
Then 15 said, “There’s something in Sleepy’s butt.” (14 is the new 15–he had a birthday.)
I got out my chicken books and studied up. I think Sleepy was “pasted up”–his stool was sticking to his bottom, closing up the vent, which can harden, seal up, make the chick unable to poop, and then die. So we cleaned little Sleepy’s butt.
But maybe we didn’t notice Sleepy’s problem soon enough. Or maybe Sleepy’s failure to thrive went deeper than his bottom. Sleepy went to sleep, and he didn’t wake up. And since Sleepy had become our little favorite, we are sad.
The other chicks seem to be doing great.
Eating and drinking…..
…..and grooming….
…..and growing as they should.
They have lots of room to run around so there isn’t too much pecking at each other.
Lucky is still the big guy.
And we’re grateful for our little band of 11.
But we’ll miss our little Sleepy.
