bullying
bullying at Alektorophobia is a file of 4 stories. The newest of them: “Chicken SOS: Is My Girl Okay After a Long Holiday?”, “Bald Spots and Backyard Moves: When Hen Feathers Go Missing”, and “Fowl Play: My Last Two Hens and the Day One Went Nuclear”. Oh, the dramatic chicken saga. Well, isn't this a real feathery pickle? Chickens. Everything there is to know about chickens and the fear of them. The list below is every bullying story on Alektorophobia, newest first.
Chicken SOS: Is My Girl Okay After a Long Holiday?
Oh, the dramatic chicken saga. One moment they're your best feathered friend, the next they're acting like you're a fox in disguise. I read your post, and I'm feeling your worry through the screen. First off, your girl sounds like she's holding a grudge, or maybe she's just a little fowl-tempered after the holiday chaos. The fact she perked up when you returned, then slid back into hiding, suggests she's not injured or bullied, she's just being a chicken with opinions. They're quirky like that. You're not overthinking; you're being a good mama. But I'd keep an eye on her for a few more days. If she eats, poops, and eventually greets you with the usual cluck-tastic enthusiasm, you're likely in the clear.
Bald Spots and Backyard Moves: When Hen Feathers Go Missing
Well, isn't this a real feathery pickle? Five red hens, a fresh yard, and now two of them are sporting bald spots that have nothing to do with molting and everything to do with… something. I get it: change is stressful, and your flock is clearly feeling it. You did the right thing ruling out mites, but if those feathers aren't growing back, I'd wager this isn't a bug problem, it's a pecking-order problem dressed up in fancy feather loss. When the lead-up to a move keeps them cooped up, boredom turns to bullying, and those back spots are classic targets. The missing tail feathers on the others? That just screams "we're renegotiating who's boss" after losing their head hen.
Fowl Play: My Last Two Hens and the Day One Went Nuclear
Ten years of one flock, and then this. I can't stop thinking about that poor hen, and honestly, I can't stop thinking about you either. Watching a bird you've cared for turn into a feathered menace overnight is a special kind of heartbreak, and it makes total sense that you're scared to try again. That wasn't just a squabble; that was a full-on fowl play situation, and you did the kindest, bravest thing by letting her go peacefully. But here's the thing: your lone bully is still a chicken. She needs a pal, even if she doesn't deserve one yet. It's a tough spot, and I've seen folks have luck with a "slow introduction" pen. It won't be instant, but it beats a lonely winter.
Cluck-tastic news? No, this is a feathery emergency: help needed now.
Oh, my heart is absolutely breaking for this little hen. She's a fighter, that's for sure, if she's still standing and walking around after having her poor head that roughed up. You've got to give her credit for that stubborn spark, even while the rest of us would be chickening out just looking at the photo you described. Listen, when a bird has that kind of exposed tissue, the risk of infection is immediate and brutal. It's not about being brave here; it's about being kind. If she's eating, drinking, and alert, there's a small window to help. But if she starts to fade, or if you see any swelling, you owe it to her to end her suffering.