Ruptured Oviduct--A Case History

[Pidgey]

This post is for informational purposes and is not suggested as a “good read” for anyone other than people who keep a lot of pigeons and are deeply interested in managing their health. It is in response to communications that I have had with another member who has been having difficulties with a hen relating to possible oviduct problems. It is provided to help others identify possible oviduct problems before they go too far. It is lengthy, somewhat clinical and almost totally devoid of anecdotal commentary. It would probably put most of you to sleep and I’m not kidding.

It was in the end of January that I returned from an 11-day trip and noticed that both Winter and her husband, Patches, were suffering pronounced weakness and had lost significant weight. I immediately brought them both in and ran a fecal to determine whether coccidia were present. They were in both birds in large numbers. There was evidence of serious fouling of the cloaca on Winter—her tail feathers were matted at the vent. I also felt that she had some kind of swelling or “fullness” in her abdomen but I couldn’t be for certain. Given that she had lost so much weight, it did seem out of proportion.

Patches had the classic symptoms of straight coccidiosis suggesting an uncomplicated treatment involving only Corid-treated water. His medication was 0.625 mL Corid per 8 oz of water. Winter posed a greater difficulty indicated by the mucoid quality of her feces. Her stools were very sticky and difficult to emulsify for the float test. I felt that indicated a concurrent bacterial infection at that time so I augmented her treatment with Baytril (I use a water-soluble version obtained from Quality Pigeon Supply here in Tulsa). So, her medications were both 0.625 mL Corid and 0.5 mL Baytril per 8 oz of water.

Both birds were in such a state that I tube-fed them Kaytee Exact for a couple of days before allowing them solid food. I mixed the Kaytee with the medicated water. I put them in the basement under a heat lamp shining over a board for a perch. They tend to park under the heat lamp in a case like that and if they get too warm they can move as needed to self-regulate their comfort.

Both birds got a lot better within a week. At the end of the week, Patches was ready to rejoin the loft so I took him out. Winter was better overall, but she still had some disturbing characteristics. Her mucoid stools persisted and she had an almost constant tremor. I tried isolating her under the lamp and it became obvious that it wasn’t a chill because she was quite warm.

In another week, she was still shaking sporadically but she began flying everywhere and pining to go back to the loft. I took her out for brief spells during the next week just to let her know that her home was still there. I have come to believe that it helps in the healing process if the patient can have some time to see that its world still exists. Even in the case of pigeons from elsewhere, it perks up their interest in life if they can sit and watch other pigeons. Too much isolation is bad for a bird.

The tremors never really went completely away but she certainly seemed strong enough so I let her go back out. The weather was typical winter for the Tulsa area—nights in the 20’s. She was out for a couple of weeks when I returned from another business trip and found her supporting herself with her wings while eating at the feeders.

She had relapsed so I took her back in and started over. I had to soak her tail in warm water to free up the soiled feathers. Her fecal was the same as before so I restarted her on the identical medications and treatment. She had taken to “hunkering down” more than during the first round, the swelling in the abdomen had gotten perhaps a little worse and there was an identifiably hard mass that felt egg-shaped and could be moved around.

After a week on medications, her condition had stabilized and the coccidiosis was over. Her stools had retained the mucoid consistency on a somewhat regular basis up to this point but they began to separate into a normal stool with an overlay of mucous. The overlay had a reddish tint so I took a fresh Q-Tip and worked to get a sample for a simple smear. The mucous did not want to adhere well to the Q-Tip (odd, seeing as how you normally can’t get snot off easily) so I had to roll it in the stool to finally get enough.

I rolled it onto a clean slide and then used a blow dryer to dry the slide. Examining it at 400x, I thought I could see red blood cells. I re-processed the slide using staining techniques to make them more visible and confirmed their presence. Not enough to indicate anemia, but there was certainly something not right. Coccidiosis can produce bloody stools but it generally would not persist this long after treatment.

She was still occasionally shaking and was more and more reluctant to stand. I took her to the vet as well as that slide and a fresh-floated 30-minute fecal. The vet confirmed the blood cells, agreed that the fecal was clean and performed another type of fecal to gauge the ratio of short-to-long bacteria (good bacteria to bad bacteria). It didn’t reveal anything of significance.

Upon palpating the hardness, the vet became concerned. She felt that it could be a tumor but that it would require a different vet to perform the surgery if elected. He wasn’t available and wouldn’t be in unto the next day for a half-day and then would be unavailable for three weeks.

So, we sat the next morning until he could squeeze us in. When he examined the bird, he said that cases like this were usually a 50/50 shot—if you open the bird there’s a strong possibility that what you see may warrant immediate euthanasia. There are some tumors that birds can get that don’t grow very fast and they’re usually not operable because you’re more likely to lose the bird than not. I decided not to.

Days later, I manipulated the mass and found that it could be moved out amost to the vent (well away from the kidneys). It seemed so much like being “egg bound.” That manifests in two ways—one where the egg is bound in the cloaca and blocks the feces from exiting the vent (that’s the really dangerous kind) and the other where the egg stops essentially in the uterus and doesn’t pass through the vaginal canal. I began to wonder if maybe it was the latter presentation. I irrigated the vaginal canal with mineral oil to aid in delivery if this were the case—it certainly couldn’t hurt—but it didn’t help.

(continued)