A gal with a twisted neck

Bartok came to us in the fall of 2021. She and her brother were my first expansion of my Silkie flock.
Unfortunately, she wouldn't have the best start in our home.

It began with her ruffling her feathers and looking unusually puffy. She also had a slight bend in her neck, but at first, it wasn't very noticeable.

On day two, it became clear that she had wry neck, a very common disease among Silkie chickens. When I came to wake them that morning, she dropped her head between her legs and just kept walking backwards. She screamed in pure panic. She didn't understand why she couldn't hold her head up. That scream would be the hardest thing to hear throughout her illness.

Her brother kept her company when she was terrified and confused about what was happening to her.
With advice from her breeder, we found a treatment plan. I also started researching what this illness really was, and through my research I learned how to adjust and add products to her treatment.

Despite her fear and pain, whenever I picked her up, she purred. She loved sleeping against my chest, tucking her head inside my jacket. I have never had a chicken purr that much.
But she kept getting worse. I had just gotten to know this amazing little creature, and I had already fallen in love with her. Would she be the first chicken I would have to put down, just to spare her from the misery?
I decided to give her the chance to fight!

The next day, I moved her and her brother into a small pen inside our house so I could keep a close eye on her.
I motivated her with some boiled egg. And then it happened—she took a step forward! The time between her "head drops" grew longer and longer.
She had started her road to recovery!

For a long time afterwards, she still had a slight bend in her neck, but otherwise you couldn't tell she had ever been sick.
I swore to myself that she would never have to go through this again. I made a prevention plan, but life got in the way. Sometimes I forgot her preventive treatment, and one thing I didn't know back then: her body could not handle being broody.

A year passed…

I could never have imagined how stubborn she would be when she went broody for the first time. It took me twice as long as expected to break her broodiness, and right afterwards she went into a heavy molt. You can't imagine how hard this was on her tiny little body, going through both events one after the other.
She didn't seem to mind though—because right after molting, she went broody again.
That was too much for her body to handle…

Looking back, there were signs before the symptoms returned.
I had seen her tilt her head strangely for a few seconds, but when it went away, I didn't think much of it.

For several days in a row, I found her sleeping under the perches. I thought it was just because she was broody and sneaking toward her nest at night.
In reality, it was a sign of lost balance. She wasn't jumping down from the perch—she was falling.

One morning, without knowing what awaited me, I found her once again with her head between her legs. She had relapsed. I knew this was very common in wry neck cases.

I went all in with her treatment. With the knowledge from last time, I felt prepared.
Within two days I thought she was improving—but I was so wrong. She went downhill quickly.

I held her in my hands, on my lap, against my chest every minute I was home, supporting her neck so she wouldn't panic when her head dropped.

Again, I thought she wouldn't survive. I cried, but I didn't give up! The next day, she was able to eat on her own again!
Soon after, I tried letting her outside under close observation—and to my surprise, she was walking!

I created a new prevention plan. A reminder on my phone to give her a multivitamin shot twice a month. I would never risk the same situation again, so I also decided not to let her go broody. In addition, I added sunflower seeds to the flock's diet.

Both times I was terrified that her wry neck was actually caused by a brain injury. Bartok suffers from a vaulted skull, which makes the brain very sensitive, even to the lightest peck.

Today she is healthy, confident, and still loves cuddles. She has grown into a very special hen for me. It feels like she knows I helped her through her illness. She comes running the moment she hears my voice.