...was very sick. She wasn't eating or drinking and Dr. Abby knew she would die unless something was done. So we gave her a little dexdomitor (a reversable anesthetic), a little local and a little surgery to open up her crop (also called craw: a pouch in the esophagus of many birds, in which food is held for later digestion - mmm, yummy). Erin held her wing aside while I patted her little head to keep her calm and Dr. Abby pulled out this massive wad of undigested icky hay from her bedding which smelled like...well, like shite. It was nasty. And there was a lot of it. Then we sewed her back up and put her under a light to wake up. A few hours later she was up and about wearing an ever so attractive collar to prevent her from pecking at her incision. This all happened on Monday and as of yesterday afternoon she was back out with her friends in the yard. Yay Chicky!
If she lives she gets a name: Harriet :)
The last patient did not survive much beyond the surgery.