I took a call last week about a 4-month-old hen with splayed legs. Based on how her condition was described and the hen’s age, I only had one question: Can we set up an intake appointment for you to bring her here?

Piroska’s name at the time was Peggy (peg-leg), but was changed to Piroska, a Hungarian name meaning “little red.”

On Thursday, Tim walked into the barn carrying Piroska, a wisp of a hen, and nobody else in tow. Piroska’s person had dropped her off and already left.

The team quickly met at the front of the barn to see what we could do.

While I knew Piroska would have a very slim chance at a life worth living based on the information we were given, I always reserve a little slice of hope, just in case the description of the situation doesn’t match the animal who arrives at the sanctuary.

With Rosie, and countless others, that reserved hope resulted in happy, confident residents with years of sanctuary life ahead of them after medical intervention and steadfast care. That would not be the case for Piroska.

She was wide-eyed and alert when I took her from Tim’s arms. That response can be mistaken for “doing well enough all things considered” rather than a terrified little soul, in the body of a prey species, desperately trying to figure out how to get away.

There was no doubt she was severely underweight; however, when she settled into my arms, my heart sank. She was completely emaciated. Her legs felt like scales over bone. Months without being able to use her legs had caused the muscles to waste away and atrophy.

She was little more than a skeleton with feathers, and her body had turned from just getting by to consuming itself to stay alive.

With the shock of just how little reserves she had left, I encountered the next horror.
Normally, when a hen or rooster is in my left arm, tucked against my side for a quick exam, I feel along the length of their keel bone, checking body score, and a few key markers along the way.

However, I got past the end of her keel bone and was met with momentary confusion. When she had passed from Tim’s arms to mine, I hadn’t paused to take a look at the configuration of her legs.

Instead, I was realizing, with her in my arms, that her legs were twisted together (I’m assuming so they were splayed out in either direction?). Was that how they had been for a long time? Would untangling them cause more distress than having them twisted together?

From what I understand, Piroska’s current state started 4 months earlier as splayed (spraddle) legs, one of the most common leg disorders in chicks.
Splayed legs are when one or both legs turn or drift outward, making it hard or impossible for the chick to stand. It can be visible after they hatch or show up over the first days or weeks.

The overwhelming majority of splayed-leg cases in chickens that we see are due to human-created/caused problems (of which the list is extensive).

Of course, there are exceptions; however, by the time individuals like Piroska come to us, much like Meadow the sheep, the damage is completely irreversible, and they are living in a painful, terrified existence.

This isn’t always seen by the people who reach out to us.

For example, chickens are prey animals, and hiding weakness is instinctive. A bird who visibly struggles is the one a predator goes for, so they conceal how they feel for as long as they possibly can. This includes being alert and having an appetite.

Piroska showed those signs, but too much damage had been done.

The same day she arrived, Piroska went to see one of our provincial veterinarians, who agreed it was time to release Piroska from her body. Thank you to Dr Lisa Wiechmann for your compassion and for giving Piroska a peaceful passing.

I’m hoping this post will reach anyone caring for a hen like Piroska, a sheep like Meadow, or any other animal who’s been severely compromised and hasn’t had a veterinary medical professional have a look at them at all or recently.

If you’re concerned this might be the case with an animal you’re caring for, please talk with someone in the veterinary field who can direct you to the right next step.

If you run into barriers to care, please let us know.

Rest in peace, sweet Piroska.
You deserved so much more than this life had for you.