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I was debating whether to post in "Sick and Injured" or here in "Stories" and decided on the latter, since the crisis is past. The story is so amazing that I want to share it with others who love our feathered friends as much as I do. It's long, so please bear with me.
By way of background, Luke (officially "Lucy" since she turned out to be a hen but still called Luke because that's the name she reponds to) is a Nun pigeon I raised in 2005. We have over 90 pigeons, some rescues, many show birds. We show, but not very seriously since they are primarily pets.
I first bonded with Luke when she was six months old and became seriously, mysteriously ill. No symptoms other than weight loss, but her white cell count was sky high and it took three different antibiotics before my vet and I got the infection under control. She was only in the house recovering for a few weeks but she became very tame. I've had other tame hens that lived in the house for various periods of time, but they always forgot me when they went to the loft and had mates and babies. Not Luke. Through mates and babies she remained friendly, would respond happily with coos and circles when I greeted her and she would fly to me when I called her name.
Fast forward to the last weekend in March, 2009 when I noticed Luke had the "lobster-tail" stance that denotes abdominal pain. At first I thought she was simply preparing to lay, but no egg appeared. When I picked her up I discovered she was quite thin, so I took her to the vet first thing on Monday. An x-ray revealed the problem--a large egg, stuck high up. Dr. K gave her a calcium shot and instructed me to keep her on heat. He also started her on antibiotics (cefa). I set her up at home in a carrier on a heating pad. Two days passed and still no egg, so I took her back on Wednesday as Dr. K had instructed. He gave her another calcium shot and we discussed our options.
He explained to me that the only chance to save Luke was a risky and delicate surgery to remove the egg. If we did not remove the egg, she might survive for awhile, but it would eventually kill her. But the surgery, he explained, had only a 15% survival rate. I was stunned. She's my very favorite pigeon. But did it make any sense to risk a traumatic (and expensive!) surgery with so little hope of success? After lots of prayer, discussions with the vet, my husband, and a conversation between Steve and the vet, we made the difficult decision to go forward with the surgery, which took place last Thursday, April 2nd.
I prayed all morning that God would guide Dr. K's hands. I just did not want to lose Luke. My prayers were wonderfully answered. She came through the surgery and I was able to pick her up that same afternoon. The surgery was even more complicated than we anticipated because it turned out the egg was thin-shelled and had broken inside her. The surgery took an hour and a half. Dr. K had to painstakingly pull out pieces of shell and remove nasty-looking old yolk with syringes. He showed me what he pulled out of her and it was ghastly. It's hard to believe all that rotten material was inside her and she was still alive and alert.
Amazingly, by that evening Luke was fully awake and reponded to me by cooing, bowing her head and twitching her wings. She even attempted to peck at seeds. The next day she started eating again and pooping, and I can tell you I have never been as happy to see pigeon poop as I was that day! That was the key sign of her recovery. Up to that point we did not know for certain that her digestive system was undamaged, though Dr. K did his best and felt the surgery had gone well.
Luke is recovering in the house and is becoming spoiled. She's still on pain meds (last day) and antibiotics. Since she's used to living in the loft where she has lots of space, she's not happy being confined, so I've been letting her roam around the kitchen floor. At first she stayed there but then she decided the living room carpet was more comfortable on her little feet. I'm going through lots of baby wipes cleaning up after her.
On Sunday I was reading a book on the couch when she walked into the living room, around the coffee table and then flew up to my lap. She preened herself for awhile, then moved up to my shoulder where she sat and preened herself more thoroughly and stared right into my eyes. As I met her lovely pearl eyes I felt as though she was saying "thank you." And I didn't mind the feather scurf at all. I'm just so happy to have her here.
-Cathy
By way of background, Luke (officially "Lucy" since she turned out to be a hen but still called Luke because that's the name she reponds to) is a Nun pigeon I raised in 2005. We have over 90 pigeons, some rescues, many show birds. We show, but not very seriously since they are primarily pets.
I first bonded with Luke when she was six months old and became seriously, mysteriously ill. No symptoms other than weight loss, but her white cell count was sky high and it took three different antibiotics before my vet and I got the infection under control. She was only in the house recovering for a few weeks but she became very tame. I've had other tame hens that lived in the house for various periods of time, but they always forgot me when they went to the loft and had mates and babies. Not Luke. Through mates and babies she remained friendly, would respond happily with coos and circles when I greeted her and she would fly to me when I called her name.
Fast forward to the last weekend in March, 2009 when I noticed Luke had the "lobster-tail" stance that denotes abdominal pain. At first I thought she was simply preparing to lay, but no egg appeared. When I picked her up I discovered she was quite thin, so I took her to the vet first thing on Monday. An x-ray revealed the problem--a large egg, stuck high up. Dr. K gave her a calcium shot and instructed me to keep her on heat. He also started her on antibiotics (cefa). I set her up at home in a carrier on a heating pad. Two days passed and still no egg, so I took her back on Wednesday as Dr. K had instructed. He gave her another calcium shot and we discussed our options.
He explained to me that the only chance to save Luke was a risky and delicate surgery to remove the egg. If we did not remove the egg, she might survive for awhile, but it would eventually kill her. But the surgery, he explained, had only a 15% survival rate. I was stunned. She's my very favorite pigeon. But did it make any sense to risk a traumatic (and expensive!) surgery with so little hope of success? After lots of prayer, discussions with the vet, my husband, and a conversation between Steve and the vet, we made the difficult decision to go forward with the surgery, which took place last Thursday, April 2nd.
I prayed all morning that God would guide Dr. K's hands. I just did not want to lose Luke. My prayers were wonderfully answered. She came through the surgery and I was able to pick her up that same afternoon. The surgery was even more complicated than we anticipated because it turned out the egg was thin-shelled and had broken inside her. The surgery took an hour and a half. Dr. K had to painstakingly pull out pieces of shell and remove nasty-looking old yolk with syringes. He showed me what he pulled out of her and it was ghastly. It's hard to believe all that rotten material was inside her and she was still alive and alert.
Amazingly, by that evening Luke was fully awake and reponded to me by cooing, bowing her head and twitching her wings. She even attempted to peck at seeds. The next day she started eating again and pooping, and I can tell you I have never been as happy to see pigeon poop as I was that day! That was the key sign of her recovery. Up to that point we did not know for certain that her digestive system was undamaged, though Dr. K did his best and felt the surgery had gone well.
Luke is recovering in the house and is becoming spoiled. She's still on pain meds (last day) and antibiotics. Since she's used to living in the loft where she has lots of space, she's not happy being confined, so I've been letting her roam around the kitchen floor. At first she stayed there but then she decided the living room carpet was more comfortable on her little feet. I'm going through lots of baby wipes cleaning up after her.
On Sunday I was reading a book on the couch when she walked into the living room, around the coffee table and then flew up to my lap. She preened herself for awhile, then moved up to my shoulder where she sat and preened herself more thoroughly and stared right into my eyes. As I met her lovely pearl eyes I felt as though she was saying "thank you." And I didn't mind the feather scurf at all. I'm just so happy to have her here.
-Cathy
