Kristy and I knew it was just a matter of time, but we held out hope. We hoped that somehow Mr Man, Kristys Buff Orpington rooster would recover from his stroke. We held out hope that one day he would be back on his feet protecting his girls.
That day will never come.
It started the morning of Sunday, July 27th. Kristy and I walked out to the chicken yard to check on the flock. We found Mr. Man laying on his side unable to walk. We thought that he was suffering from heat exhaustion or heat stroke. He was brought inside to cool off. By Monday morning he had not improved.
He was not eating or drinking on his own. So Kristy and I started giving him pedialyte, gerber baby food and water with a syringe, but with no needle.
After a few days of force feeding Mr Man seemed to regain some of his strength. He was kept in the bathtub so his poop was easy to clean up. By the end of the first week he started growing, however so weak he was.
For some reason he would not lower his right leg. It was like all of the stregth was gone from one side of his body. Nor did he have coordination on one side when eating. When food was put in front of him, he would lay on one side and try to peck. When the food was on the other side of his head, he acted like he could not see the food, and did not have enough control over his head to peck the food.
When Mr Man was laid down, he would roll himself over to be on his right side. He would throw his head back, shake his head side to side, and his eyes looked like they were rolling back.
A month after his stroke he started eating on his own, but was unable to stand. He slowly made progress, then he would have a relapse where he could no feed himself again. Then it was back to baby food and the syringe. It was as if all three of us were fighting a losing battle.
Two months after the initial syptoms, Kristy and I decided to move Mr Man into an unused rabbit box. The rabbit box was moved into the new chicken house so Mr Man could see his girls before he passed away. Kristy and I hoped that seeing his girls would somehow give him the strength to recover. But our hopes were in vain.
When Mr Man was put in the rabbit box he seemed to be doing ok. He was eating and drinking on his own. Kristy and I checked his food and water everyday. It was as if Mr Man gave up on life. Kristy and I would give him pep talks telling him how much his girls missed him, and that he needed to eat and get better.
October 20th, Kristy called me at work to give me the bad news. Mr Man had passed away. I broke down into tears.
Mr Man was buried next to a fig tree in the chicken yard. He will forever be near his ladies he loved so much.
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