This morning I discovered our disabled hen, Teddy Bird, had passed. As much as I would like to bury her, I feel I need to send her off for a necropsy to better understand what paralyzed her in the first place and what ended her life.
She was not in pain or visibly sick. In fact, she had a great appetite. She'd slipped during the torrential downpour the other day (usually she stayed under the covered portion when it rained) and I brought her in for a warm bath and blow dry. She was back to her normal self the next day.
You may recall, Teddy made a miraculous recovery to a shuffle-walk back in October last year, after months of physical therapy on my part. We converted the chicken tractor into her home by putting a floor on it and raising it up on legs. I checked on her needs every couple hours, and she would always purr the "I love you" sound and I would purr back. I have probably spent more time with this chicken than any of the others.
She will be greatly missed.