Despite the lovely sunshine I noticed yesterday that Gytha was starting to puff herself up again… the previous sign of her becoming unwell. She was happy and active and eating well, so we let her be. Today, however, whilst doing a spot of chicken wrangling to get them back in the run I picked her up. There, once more, was the smell of rotten eggs.

Mr Snail-of-happiness held her firmly and I had the pleasure of unblocking her vent. It was surprisingly easy to unclog her and I managed to get my finger well inside to be sure. There was no sign of any egg-shell, which is good. The next procedure is a salt-water douche, to ensure that she’s rinsed out inside.

I have now washed my hands once with lavender liquid soap, twice with charcoal soap and used tea tree sanitizer on them twice… the smell of rotting egg is finally disappearing.

All this happened just after I had returned from an appointment to try out wearing contact lenses. So today, my right index finger has been in my own eye and up a chicken’s bum. I think I probably chose the right order.