A cocked head with beady yellow eyes and crimson comb atop of flapping brown wings is not what you typically expect when opening the door to a consultation room. Yet here we were – Nikki, Miss Dinks and I – exchanging introductions. Little did I know that this introduction was the beginning of a journey; a journey of courage, strength, resilience and friendship.
After the wings stopped flailing around and a large amount of straw settled on the consult room floor, it was immediately obvious that Miss Dinks was really ill. She soon reverted back to a depressed state, her eyes closed and no longer showed any interest in her unfamiliar surrounds. The most noticeable issue was her massively distended and taunt abdomen. After she was wrapped in her favourite green blanket, an abdominal ultrasound and aspirate of her abdomen confirmed egg peritonitis, a common cause of abdominal distension and discomfort in birds, which unfortunately carries a poor prognosis. This was the first major health hurdle that she was confronted by and would defiantly overcome. On a weekly basis, 500–750 ml of free abdominal fluid was being drained. The removal of the fluid resulted in an immediate yet short-lived improvement. During these visits mutual respect and trust developed, and she became a very familiar face to clients and staff alike.
At the encouragement of Nikki, who saw this illness as a means by which Dinks intended to help other ex-battery hens by essentially allowing us to trial various treatments, it was decided that she would undergo a general anaesthetic. A hormone impregnated implant to arrest her ovulation was placed under her skin. Within days, the fluid accumulation had completely resolved. The effectiveness of this treatment has resulted in numerous other chickens with the same affliction going on to live healthy and happy lives.
Time continued to pass, and occasionally Miss Dinks would have a brief visit just for a check over or to treat a minor illness. During these visits, Nikki would say, “I’ve just whipped these up this morning for you,” as she would reach into her basket. When this happened, the clinic staff would flock to the tearoom, salivating over the vegan delights she had created. Without a doubt, the most popular were the profiteroles and vanilla slice. Even to this day, people are amazed that they were completely vegan.
Miss Dinks continued to thrive, and every 6 months she would have an anaesthetic, and a new implant was placed. Eventually the development of a slight and persistent lameness would result in regular fly-in, fly-out appearances at the clinic. Many clients and patients in the waiting room would be somewhat taken aback yet pleasantly surprised by the ‘balk, balk, balk’ coming out of the box, which is certainly not a regular occurrence.
Tests, x-rays, medication trials and a specialist consultation were not able to pinpoint an exact cause of her waxing-and-waning lameness. As the lameness slowly progressed over months, Nikki and Scott became ever so creative in helping Miss Dinks live a comfortable life, particularly when she had her bad days. Numerous contraptions, such as the Miss Dinks physio chair, were made, tried and used. I would often awake to find an email from Nikki that was sent at the crack of dawn with pictures of Miss Dinks in her supports. I was amazed at the dedication afforded to Dinks and would always chuckle at the various action shots and funny commentary that captioned the photos, including one involving Miss Dinks watching Chicken Run from her physio chair.
Although Miss Dinks always put on a brave face, as the bad days became more frequent and strong pain relief provided only temporary relief, we knew that something more sinister was at play. A barrage of tests and procedures were performed with a diagnosis eventually provided after she had a general anaesthetic and biopsy done of one of her leg bones. The word ‘cancer’ evokes fear, grief and helplessness. The anxiousness and hesitation in Nikki’s voice and mannerisms were that of a mother to her daughter when I had to break the bad news. Forever the optimist and always wanting to think outside the square with regards to treatment options, Nikki and Scott were hit by the reality that Miss Dinks was living on borrowed time, as not only her leg but also the majority of her internal organs were affected by the cancer.
Death and grief are part and parcel of the circle of life, and as a veterinarian, I’m confronted by it on a daily basis. The outpouring of grief, the tears shed and the flowing tributes at the passing of Miss Dinks highlight the wide-reaching effect she had on the lives of so many, both near and far. She was and will remain in our hearts as a battler, a survivor and a purveyor for the rights of all feathered creatures. She was an ambassador for the voiceless, an advocate for a life without pain and suffering, where normal behaviours can be expressed and where they are respected as distinct emotional and physical entities that contribute as individuals to the bigger picture.
Fly eternally free, Miss Dinks.
Dr Ben Porter
BVSc (Hons 1), BSc