I noticed her walking around like this, it was a lot worse before I took the video she was in a full squat just kind of hobbling.
Oh, we've been there. That moment when you see one of your feathered friends moving like she's trying out for a low-budget horror film, and your brain starts screaming, "Is this egg-binding? A broken leg? Did she eat something she shouldn't have?" The squat walk is a classic chicken mystery, equal parts concerning and comical, because let's be honest, a chicken doing a full squat while hobbling looks like a tiny dinosaur in crisis. Our take? You did the right thing by catching her and checking for egg-binding. That's the chicken keeper version of "check for a pulse," and you handled it like a pro. But here's the thing: the panic you felt is valid, and the fact that you couldn't feel anything doesn't mean you're off the hook. It just means you're not a veterinarian with X-ray vision. And trust us, we've all wished for that.
What we'd tell a reader who asked us about this is simple: don't assume the worst, but don't ignore the weird. The fact that she improved after being startled suggests this might not be a physical blockage or injury, it could be a neurological hiccup, a muscle spasm, or even a weird case of "I ate too many snails and now my guts feel funny." Chickens are masters of drama, and sometimes they throw a squat walk just to keep you on your toes. But because she's still walking "a bit off," you're right to keep her in that cage and monitor her. Check her vent for any discharge, swelling, or unusual odor, things your fingers might miss. Watch if she's still eating and drinking. And if she's still doing the squat shuffle after 24 hours, call a vet. Honestly, we'd rather you feel silly for worrying over nothing than regret not acting when it mattered.
The practical takeaway here is that your gut instinct is your best tool. You noticed something off, you acted, and now you're gathering more info. That's exactly what we'd tell any chicken keeper: trust your eyes, trust your hands, and don't be afraid to cage her for observation. A day in solitary with fresh water and a comfy spot won't traumatize her. What will traumatize her is a mystery we didn't solve. So keep that cage clean, watch her poop like a hawk, and if she's back to normal tomorrow? Great. If not, you've got a clear log of symptoms to show a vet. You're not overreacting, you're being the responsible human in a relationship with a creature that can't tell you what's wrong. And that, my friend, is the cluck-ing truth.