The miracle of the walking-dead chicken. Yes, really.

 

I cannot believe what has happened.

You know how I told you in my previous post that Cookie had more or less been pecked to death, was left with only one eye one eye and that she had subsequently died?

Well, there were five of these Old English Game bantams living in the tree. Then, when Cookie died, there were four.

This morning, another bloody pecked bantam appeared pecking around the yard, away from the rest of the flock so I was appalled that the nasty bully bantams had been at it again and this one was unlikely to make it too. Hubster put it in a dog cage and we put it under cover near the rabbits until we could decide what to do with it.

Then, as I drove up the farm drive, I paused near the front of the house and counted FOUR bantams.

I ran to the dog cage when we had parked up to make sure it was true. It was. Cookie had come back from the dead.

I am not joking. I counted the bantams six times. Then got Hubster to count them too.

I looked where Cookie’s body had been placed yesterday and it had gone.

Cookie is alive and well with TWO eyes, living in a dog crate it in a barn.

I watched Hubster take Cookie’s lifeless body away yesterday. Somehow, in just under 24 hours, Cookie has healed her eye and her neck and recovered from being dead.

‘It is a sign from God,’ I told Hubster who, in his usual way, looked at me like I was mad (after this, I am beginning to wonder myself!).

So we sprayed the miracle walking-dead chicken with more antiseptic (that’s why she has a purple tinge about her feathers) and given her fresh food and water until she heals completely, we can clip her wing feather and gently re-introduce her into the flock.

 

This could only happen to me.

 

 

*Edited to add that unfortunately St Cookie did meet her end later that year because the silly chickens wouldn’t go in a coop (they preferred the tree) and Mr Fox got them.