Ten Bantams Lost In One Year

When I first inherited my bantam chickens, they seemed to have long lives compared to normal chickens. They would cruise past ten years with ease. Ruffled but resilient, hardly ever sick. When death did come, it was the usual feathered drama: a rooster's battle wound from defending his hens, or the quiet, peaceful fade of old age.

Then the last twelve months rewrote everything. In one year, I lost four hens and six roosters. Ten birds. My biggest poultry loss ever.

What I saw

I can't give you a neat timeline. The deaths didn't arrive in a tidy order. But here is what I witnessed across those months:

• One rooster found dead upon opening the coop door one morning. He had appeared perfectly healthy days earlier, even showing his dominance within the flock the day earlier. No symptoms. No warning.

• Four hens - each at different times spread across the twelve months - died the same way. They simply faded. Stopped eating. Stopped drinking. Sat queitly in one corner. Died days later. One of them had even just hatched an egg. Her chicks survived. She did not.

• Some roosters turned pale around the head and face. Their combs looked bleached. They lasted a few weeks, then died.

• Two roosters had vision problems before death. Stumbling. Missing the perch. Then gone.

From my guess, all these birds were around five to eight years old.

The detail that keeps me awake

Seeing that each chicken's illness was not contagious, I did not isolate any of them. In a contagious outbreak, that would have spread illness like wildfire. But it didn't. Healthy birds ate from the same feeder, drank the same water, dust-bathed alongside sick ones. Only certain birds got sick and subsequently died.

So what is it? What caused the illness?

To be honest, I have no idea, but I tend to lean toward rat-borne pathogens.

The older cages are not rat-proof. There are traces of rat droppings around the feeders and bedding. Exposure could happen now and then. A rat visits one month, not the next - that might explain deaths spread over time. Older birds would be more vulnerable, like us humans.

Extreme weather during the last ten years did not help either. Blazing hot temperatures during the day may drop suddenly because of freezing cold winds blowing from the north.

What I don't know

I am not a veterinarian. I didn't perform any tests. I didn't send a body to a lab. All I have are observations and grief.

But I've kept chickens long enough to know when something is wrong. This wasn't old age. This wasn't a fight. This was something else.

What I've changed

• New cages are fully rat-proofed. I have three cages so far.

• Letting my three older cats out at night seems to be doing a good job. Many rodents were caught during the last couple of months.

A final reflection

The coop feels quieter now. Yes, I know I complained about the gender imbalance at one time, but I never wished for this.

If you've seen something similar - sudden death, vision loss, pale faces, hens dying months apart with the same symptoms, all without contagion between birds - please leave a comment. I'm not looking for a diagnosis. Just stories from people who've loved old bantams and lost them too fast.

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Age Is The Gauge

It's been almost a year since I got my egg incubator. At the time, I was pretty hopeful. It felt like the solution to my low hatch rate problem with my chickens. I figured if I couldn't rely on the hens, at least the incubator would give me better results.

But now, looking back it's kind of funny. The results I'm getting from the incubator aren't that different from what the hens were doing all along. Most of the time, nothing hatches. And on the rare occasion something does, and it's usually just one chick out of a batch of six or more eggs.

I even tried switching their feed to breeder or layer, thinking that better nutrition might help. Honestly, I can't say it made any noticeable difference.

Like Mother Like Daughter

After nearly seven weeks of waiting, I can finally say with confidence: I've got another hen!

The proof? This little one looks exactly like its mother - plumage and all.

Hooray!

The Golden Lion, a Lucky Gambler, and the Miracle Chick

A few months ago, I stumbled upon a delightful story at NHK Japan. There is a golden Lion statue at a train station in Tokyo that lets out a thunderous roar every time someone slips money into its mouth.The segment followed a gambler who was about to place a bet on a horse race. Before he did, he walked up to the Lion, donated some coins, and listened to it roar. He went off, placed his bet, and watched the race unfold. Next thing I knew, he had won.

Before he left the site, he walked back over to the statue and donated again.

I found this absolutely charming.

The Thought That Stuck

A few days later, I couldn't shake the image of that Lion. I found myself wondering: If I perform a charitable deed, does the universe take note?

I am not someone who donates expecting anything in return. I give when I have spare cash, and I try not to think too hard about where that money "goes" afterward.

My Guess - A Rooster

If I were to take a guess, I think I will be getting a rooster. After all, I think its comb is growing and it is quite prominent now at 4 weeks old. Besides that, it seems more bolder compared to my other hen (ie. its older sister) when it was a chick. My wife do notice that it is more daring and not hide when she walks near the cage to take a peek at it. Also, it always jumps and claw at my hands when I am changing the feeding dish and water cup.

First Pullet Egg And Other Flock Updates

My little hen is all grown up! Four days ago, she laid her very first egg. I was - and still am - a whirlwind of anxious excitement. Since that first surprise, however, she hasn't laid another. I'm trying to be patient.

Three Months Of Love, Gone In An Instant

It's with a heavy heart that I write this post.

Seven days ago, I lost my beloved incubator chick. She was just three days shy of her third-month birthday. Her life was cut short by a cobra bite.

The feeling of devastation is profound. For the last four months, I have poured effort, hope, and care into raising her. From the delicate incubation process to the first cheeps, and watching her grow into a healthy young hen... it feels like all that work has come to naught. The frustration and disappointment are a lot to bear.

A Tense Few Days With My Chick

The last couple of days have been tense.

My 2 month old chick, in a curious peck, snagged a thread from the rafia string securing its feeding box. A thin piece had become entangled around the base of its tongue.

My heart sank. All I could do was carefully snip the thread and hope for the best.

Success! A pair of new hens

The big question when raising chicks is always: will they be hens or roosters? While I am no expert, I'm thrilled to report that judging by their plumage, both of my young chicks are looking like hens. Their feathers are a identical to their mother's. This is exactly the outcome I was hoping for when I started this incubator journey.

Lessons from my fourth hatch

The triumphant chirp of a new chick is a sound that never gets old. This time, I was lucky enough to hear it twice.

As of today, my flock has grown by two tiny, peeping bantam chicks. One fought its way out of the incubator; the other was delivered under the expert care of a broody hen. This fourth hatch attempt was a rollercoaster of expectation, science, and a little bit of old-fashioned luck - and I learned more than ever before.

The Incubator Mystery: A Case of the Singleton Chicks

Let's address the elephant in the room: my incubator. It has a curious habit of producing one, and only one, perfect chick per hatch. My first, third, and now this fourth attempt have all followed this pattern.

This time, four other eggs showed promising signs during candling - a red glow with a dark shadow indicating development - but they never pipped. By day 24, I had to accept they weren't going to make it. It's a frustrating puzzle. The lone chick that did hatch is now a thriving 29-day-old ball of fluff and energy, which tells me the basics are right, but the fine-tuning is off. Moving the incubator away from drafts (a lesson from hatch #3) seems to have helped the overall environment, but the mystery of the singleton continues. The investigation is still very much open.