In the course of events, I saw one of our little hens settin' off by herself, real quiet like.
So I picked her up, and noticed something looked off with her foot.
At first glance, I thought she had a bit of a manure ball stuck to her claw (it happens).
But, horror of horrors, I realized it was not a manure ball, but rather some baling twine that had gotten wrapped around her feet. And the baling twine had gotten all frayed and tight and tangled, and
HER TALON OR CLAW OR TOE OR WHATEVER WAS NEARLY AMPUTATED!!
I brought her in the house and called Daniel over. Nugget is, after all, his chicken.
I sent one of the kids to the pantry to get the surgery bin.
Doesn't everyone have a surgery bin in their closet?
I put a surgical drape in Daniel's lap and set Nugget down on it.
I cut the twine off from around her feet with some bandage scissors and reassessed her talon. It was dead, but still attached to her foot by a bit of live flesh.
I don't know, is that what you're supposed to call it, or did I just coin a new phrase?
So I got a scalpel out of a wrapper, had Daniel hold on to her pretty tight, and cut the talon off.
I. Cut. The. Talon. Off.
Where else can you read stuff like this?
Look at all that stinkin' blood. Is that not disgusting?
That is a TALON.
In my HAND.
OK, you just HAVE to vote for me now, don't you?
You know the drill by now. Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.
Thanks!
