Boys will be boys, dogs will be dogs, and chickens are the game. This is one game that often does not turn out well. Not for the chicken anyway.

I should have done some ‘re-training’ when the grandsons came for a recent visit. It rather slipped my mind though. Boo on that. For I know all children need re-training while visiting here at the farm. Most especially because they do not live on one, and some have no pets at all.

They must be reminded of the farm rules. Rules that keep both them and the animals safe.

Some lessons are harder learned than others and carry a higher cost. As a mother of five children, ten years apart in age, I was ever mindful of training the children in the way of life on a farm. It has rather faded as a grandmother though.

However, it came back as a full, clear vision this week.

The commotion was already underway as we adults went outside to gather the grandchildren to go home. All I heard was, ” No!!!, Leave it!!! Get away!!” Then I saw.

Our two ‘sweet’ corgis were attacking one of our chickens! And boy did they mean business. Stopping two dogs after fresh meat is like trying to stop the rain from falling.

I could not realize why our dogs had attacked the bird. They have been trained to leave them and have done so for years. In the fray I heard the boys say they had started chasing the birds. The dogs were more than willing to join in the hot chase.

Two dogs are a pack, and that is where it turned ugly.

Finally with the dogs closed in the house and everyone gone, attention turned to our poor, little, beat up chicken.

She was torn and bitten on both her sides, feathers were everywhere. However, her wings seemed fine, as did her legs.

“Should we put her down?” my husband asked quietly.

“I don’t know, should we try to doctor her wounds? Let’s try, don’t you think?” was my fainthearted reply.

I knew I would need my husband’s help for to even hope for her healing. His big strong hands could hold her like a sling while I could doctor her.

He said yes, and with that, the first feeling of hope arose.

Quietly carrying her to the barn while I frantically gathered supplies, they waited patiently on the ‘surgical table‘.

After gentle, and careful examination, hydrogen peroxide was poured generously over the lacerations. I then slathered her with a wonderful, homemade product I purchase from a smart bee-keeping lady in Vermont. Packaged in small glass jars, it is called Best Bee Savvy. To say it is a remarkable product is an understatement. We slathered it all over her injuries, then wrapped her torn, little body in cotton gauze and tied a pretty bow on her back.

Gently setting her in ICU, we bid her good night, confident we had done what we could.

The early morning barn lights shown gently on our ‘girl’, and she was alive!

Today is the third day since the attack. She seems to be recovering very well. Though still in ICU, she is showing very good signs of healing.

I do not know how long she will stay in the infirmary. We are not out of the woods as yet. I am still concerned about infection. But as for this day, we are hopeful.

Love and good care go a long way, a long indeed.