Strange day so far. Two things which I thought were going to happen- the boys coming out and a friend of Mr. Moon's staying the night here before a fishing trip- are not happening.
I can't seem to settle into a day and it's well half-over.
Elvis is not doing well. Right now he's standing under the kitchen porch, Miss Butterscotch keeping vigil at his sickbed. I have offered him bread with yogurt and olive oil but he is not touching it. When Mr. Moon gets home we'll try and clear that crop again.
I feel so sad.
I've read so much online and so many people do actually take their chickens to the vet but I don't think I'm that sort of chicken keeper. What if we take him and they say that he'll need surgery? Which, from what I've read, is a possibility.
No. Not doing that. As magnificent as he is, as much as we love him, that just seems too precious and crazy to me.
We massaged his crop again. Not much came out. I don't think our Elvis is going to make it.