Anyhoo, by the afternoon she was no better, perhaps a bit worse, flopping over on her side and she did not perch. She smelt sick. Joe came over to help relocate their big chook run home, and we agreed that she had probably prolapsed, and would probably go down hill very quickly. So Joe did the deed and I held her while she died, stroking her and telling she what a lovely chook she was.
I had been increasingly worried about her - all three had gone off the lay early in winter, but she had not come back on despite the array of treats, fresh greens, comfrey and supplements, which was very strange.
Poor Bianca. Wonderful layer of enormous white eggs. Bianca with the lovely pearly earlobes. Bianca who slept in my pockets when she was little. Naughty, bossy, scratchy Bianca.
Oh for the love of a cross bred chook!