Piki Part 2

I have been trying to introduce Piki to the flock but it hasn't been going well.  When I include her in the pen foraging she sort of faints.  She falls to the ground and lays there with her mouth open, wings outstretch and panting hard. It isn't hot , maybe she gets so flusterred it raises her blood pressure? I thought she was ill when this happened the first time and quickly removed her. She recovered instantly and went off to forage on her own.  When it happened again I thought maybe she was preparing for a dust bath but nothing ever came of it. Again I released her and she was fine. The girls left her alone both times leading me to think that maybe it's a defense mechanism I have not yet read about. It dawned on me last night in the middle of a play on Molly Ivins that she might be going weak in the "knees" and perhaps she is even fainting in that way that only a chicken can faint. Poor Piki.

This afternoon I once again placed her with the flock and not one but all four overwhelmed her with their pecking. The pecking is less brutal but still a painful scene to watch so I quickly put and end to it by removing Piki. Her heart was racing, mouth open, wings outstretched.  She followed me around the yard for awhile before finding a spot to stand and ponder chicken thoughts. She didn't peck at the ground, no scratching, just stood there and took in the world around her. What goes on in Piki's head I wonder.  Does she even know she is a chicken? I am starting to have my doubts.

I guess I should sneak Piki in at night and have her wake up to the confusing brutality that is the pecking order and just turn my head? That is very hard to do. It is also hard to watch the girls, I thought were complete sweethearts, show me their violent, gang girl side. I'm reminded of girl fights in high school and my own middle school trials that included scratching, hair pulling and getting in a few punches. The whole situation is ugly so I am willing to take my time to avoid  bloody feathers.

Once when I was six or seven I went into my Grandparent's chicken coop and found a hen balled up in a corner with most of her feathers gone and a bloody comb and torn wattles. She was the new girl. It was a terrible sight and I ran out of the coop crying and shouting for my Grandfather to come and rescue the poor thing. He did but it was too late, she was dying. She had  been there a week or so without injury.  The beating had occurred only in the last few hours. I remember how sad my Grandfather looked and said it was all his fault. He was so sorry.  My Grandmother came out and said she knew that would happen because the new hen was just too pretty. She was beautiful with iridescent blue and green feathers. My Grandmother said the hens eventually became jealous and ganged up on her.  This is what I am tyring so hard to avoid.