This is part 2 of an update on Robin Song’s amazing hen, Jem. In this part, Jem overcomes more challenges to her health. Jem. Part 1 aired the week prior.
What she found inside Jem
Jem’s Story Continues Part Two
This is part two of the update of the story of Jem the hen’s amazing life. If anyone wishes to learn how I came to rescue Jem, after she lost both her feet to frostbite in the winter of 2019, and the details of our first few months together as I brought her back from the brink of death, you can search KTNA’s Susitna Writer’s Voice Archives for the 3-part series entitled “A Very Brave Bird”. This update chronicles the next big challenge we faced together, which occurred during our first summer together.
My dream was- and continues to be- to get prosthesis made for Jem. After her health stabilized and she was eating well, put on weight, and had grown in healthy feathers, I began researching prosthesis. My friend CW, who lives in Willow, has a 3D printer. What he needed was a design to program the printer and ideas for the materials he would need. We found stories and articles online about prosthesis for chickens, ducks, turkeys, swans, and even cranes. I contacted every link that looked the most promising for Jem. Most were dead-ends, with unanswered emails and voice-mails. I found one company Outside that makes prosthesis for animals. But the cost was $900.00 Living on Disability and a fixed income, that was nearly a month’s income, for me. And no way to do custom fittings for Jem.
In July of 2019 I noticed Jem was acting a little differently. I put my pursuit of her prosthesis on hold until I could figure out what was going on with her health. Her appetite had dropped off and her energy wasn’t as robust. Jennifer Pironis, Talkeetna’s Vet, had just gotten her first x-ray machine and agreed to use Jem as a test subject. On July 23rd I took Jem to Jennifer’s Clinic and- with patience and Jem’s amazing trust- we were able to procure several x-rays. They revealed an odd mass in Jem’s abdomen. Jennifer is not a Poultry Vet and she couldn’t diagnose definitively what was there. She suspected a tumor. Jennifer recommended that I find a Poultry Vet. After several phone calls I connected with Dr. Lorelei Hass at Ravenwood Vet Clinic in Eagle River. When I described Jem’s symptoms, Dr. Hass requested that I send the x-rays. The next day she called to say that she also suspected a tumor, but she wouldn’t know for certain until she did surgery, which would cost over $1,000.00. The Clinic couldn’t work out payments with me. My heart sank. I didn’t want Jem’s life to end this way- not after all she had survived, thus far. But I didn’t know what else to do. Heart breaking, I called Jennifer to schedule her to come out to euthanize my Jem.
The morning of our last day together I called my friend Bob in Northern California. We had met when I was 19 and have remained good friends. I knew he would understand my heartache over losing my beloved Jem. He wasn’t home, and I left a voice-mail. An hour before Jennifer was to arrive, I took Jem into the forest with my dogs, as we had so often done before. I wanted one last peaceful outing, sitting on the mossy forest floor, watching Jem relaxing, listening to the birds. The cell phone rang: it was Bob. We talked. He said to make the appointment with Dr. Hass- he would pay for the surgery. I could hardly believe my ears! Hope rose in me. I called Dr. Hass: we made the appointment for August 27th. I called Jennifer to cancel her visit; she was relieved. Of course, I didn’t know the outcome of the pending surgery, but at least we were giving Jem a chance.
CW drove us to the Vet Clinic. I held Jem close all the way. I was nervous for her, but also hopeful. It was a long hour’s wait. Then the result: when Dr. Hass opened up Jem’s abdomen, fluid, yolk, and several shell-less eggs flowed out. An egg was lodged in her ovaduct, so eggs had been dropping into her abdomen. Dr. Hass flushed the abdomen and removed a large portion of the ovaduct. She started Jem on strong antibiotics, which I would continue at home, to fight off infection. Jem was also on painkillers.
In about an hour she was awake enough to begin the long drive back home. Jem slept deeply that night. The next day, after I had applied her booties, Jem strode across the cabin floor with an energy that belied that she had just been through major surgery.
It was a long recovery, however. Because Dr. Hass had to pluck many feathers to do Jem’s surgery, it triggered a major molt. Molting is very stressful on a bird’s body, and on top of the surgery it was almost too much. Jem lost her appetite. She even stopped drinking. I had to purchase a special emergency food from Dr. Hass, mix it into a thin gruel and get it into Jem with a syringe every four hours for almost a month. Jem lost half her weight. I offered every food treat she loved- she refused them all. She wouldn’t eat. CW would go to Pet Zoo and search for anything he thought would spark her appetite. Three weeks along, he brought up a bag of dried crickets. She used to love the live mealworms I raised for her and Jorie hen- and still do. But- like everything else- she had stopped eating those, too. After CW left, I put a few crickets in her dish. She stared at them. Then picked one up, removed its hind legs and ate them! I was stunned. She did the same to another. I quickly removed the hind legs of several crickets and offered them to her- she ate them all. That was the turning point. The hind legs of dried crickets. Go figure.
Later that night she took her first drink of water on her own. I called Jennifer. I was elated.
“She’s drinking!” I whispered into the phone, not wanting to distract Jem. Jennifer was thrilled.
We had been doing saline infusions every other day, to get fluid into Jem, for three weeks. It was not a pleasant process, but it was life-saving. We had one scheduled for the next day. I held Jem against me, as usual, Jennifer seated so she could insert the needle into Jem’s thigh, then the fluid would run from the bag suspended from overhead. But this time, instead of holding still, Jem kicked, and hard enough that the needle flew out. This was unusual from my usually tolerant hen. The third time she kicked the needle out, Jennifer said she thought Jem was telling us that she no longer needed the infusions. So I took Jem back home. Sure enough- she drank on her own. And she never looked back. She gained back her weight. Her new feathers grew in shiny and healthy. In due time, I removed her stitches.
To prevent ovulation, Jem has hormonal-blocking implants inserted under the skin of her back every few months. She exists in a kind of “in-between world”; because she doesn’t ovulate, she doesn’t really act like a hen. But she doesn’t crow, or act like a rooster, either. But she is fully 100% loving, sensitive, affectionate, intelligent, clever, and beautiful Jem-the amazing chicken. She enjoys car rides, hikes in her special backpack, worm-hunting excursions, blueberry-picking outings, daily dustbaths, cuddling, birdwatching, and snuggling under her Teddy bear.
Thanks to Bob, Dr. Hass, Dr. Pironis, CW, and the support of several friends, Jem is entering her fourth year as a healthy, happy bird. And we celebrated our third anniversary together on February 11th, 2022.
I still have hopes of prosthesis for her. I don’t know how it will happen, but I do know that she deserves them. I will keep searching for a way for this dream to come true for my Jem.
