There's a special kind of heartbreak that comes with watching one of your feathered friends turn into a tiny, peeping statue. This Cream Legbar isn't just being dramatic for attention. She's drinking, which is a good sign, but she's stopped eating, she's standing upright like she's waiting for a bus, and that nonstop peeping is her way of saying, "Something is wrong, and I don't know how to fix it." The fact that she huddles up against you instead of running away? That's not affection. That's a chick who is scared and exhausted, looking for the only warm thing she trusts.
You already did the right thing by cleaning up the pasty butt. That's a classic culprit for a lot of early chick drama, and it's easy to think that's the whole story. But here's the thing about pasty butt: it's usually a symptom, not the root cause. The real issue could be anything from a crop problem to a bacterial infection to something she was born with that's just now deciding to show up. The olive oil you gave her? That's a fine emergency snack, but it's not a cure. It's like giving a car a splash of gas when the engine is actually on fire. It might keep things moving for a little while, but it's not going to stop the smoke.
You've given her two days, and she's not bouncing back. That's not a failure on your part. That's a clear signal that this isn't a "wait and see" situation anymore. When a chick stops eating for that long, their blood sugar tanks, and their little bodies start shutting down. The peeping isn't just noise; it's a distress call. You can't out-love a metabolic crash, and you can't pipette your way out of a systemic issue. The kindest, most practical thing you can do right now is separate her from the others, keep her warm and hydrated, and get her to a vet who actually treats poultry. Yes, it might cost more than a bag of feed, but you're past the point of home remedies.
If she were in our coop, we'd tell you this: don't beat yourself up, but do move fast. A chick that's drinking but not eating and standing frozen is a chick that's running out of time. The next 24 hours matter more than the last two days. So put down the olive oil, pick up the phone, and call a vet. If that's not an option, then you need to be honest with yourself about the humane choice. Because the worst thing you can do is let her suffer through another day of peeping just because you're hoping for a miracle. She's telling you she needs help, not a cheerleader. So listen to her, and make the call.