Curled Toe Paralysis in Chicks - Making Roz Right

If you’ve landed here as the result a Google search that you undertook because you have a chick with curled toes, here’s the good news: You can save your chick! Even better, you don’t need any weird or expensive equipment or a degree in Chicken Physical Therapy. Your sweet little fluffball that can’t even walk right now can have a normal, happy life! But while this is an article about curled toe paralysis, it is more specifically the story of a lovable and tenacious Rhode Island Red chick named Roz. So, let’s start at the beginning.

My annual chick quest ritual at Murray McMurray Hatchery

This year, on the last day of April, I took my nearly annual trip to Webster City, Iowa, home of Murray McMurray Hatchery, to add a few more baby chicks to my ever-expanding flock. I’ve always had a good experience with Murray McMurray. Not only do they have the largest collection of rare and exotic chicken breeds the US, but they’ve been hatching baby chicks since 1917. These guys know what they’re doing. And every chick I’ve ever gotten from them, regardless of breed, has grown into a happy, healthy hen.

I procured ten babies on this expedition—all pre ordered, and a mixed bag of breeds that I’d chosen for a variety of reasons. For example, the reason I’d asked for one Rhode Island Red chick was because the last of my four Rhode Island Red hens had recently passed. Rhoda, Rosa, Rona, and Roxie had all been pretty and plucky birds, and I couldn’t imagine having a flock without at least one little red hen. Because these hens all had “ro” names, I’d been casting around for another feminine name containing “ro” ever since I’d placed the order. It was my grandson who came up with the great name “Roz.” Roz is a lovable and tenacious robot; the main character in the “Wild Robot” series of children’s books by Peter Brown. So, while most of the chicks wouldn’t have names for a bit, Roz did—and naming her after a fictional character who was lovable and tenacious turned out to be to be both sound and prescient.

In the car with a peeping box of fluffies.

Murray McMurray ships chicks all over the country through the mail and I certainly could have relied on the US Postal Service to deliver my chicks as well, but since I can make a round-trip drive to the hatchery in less than a day, that’s what I always do. The annual chick quest has become a pleasant ritual. First, I go to the customer window and get my box of chicks, then I open the box for my first look, to make sure everybody’s there, and okay. And then I head home with the box of peeping fluffies on my lap. At some point on the drive home I give everybody a drink by dipping their beaks in a jar lid filled with water. Otherwise, we all just ride along and peep a lot. All that peeping is without a doubt because they’re cold. I can crank the car heater to the max, but even if it becomes uncomfortably hot for me, there’s no way the heater will ever achieve the 105-degree body temperature of a mama hen.

On this trip, like every other trip, the peeping stopped immediately once I arrived home and tucked everybody under the chick heat panel. Everybody slept through the night but they were all up bright and early the next morning - already pecking at the crumbles I’d scattered on the floor of the big blue plastic bin that was their new home. It was only then that I discovered that one of the new babies had a problem. Roz the Rhode Island Red could only move around by hobbling on her hocks. Her toes were uselessly clenched into tight “fists.” I’d never ever seen this condition in any of my chicks before but I was familiar with it. It is somewhat common, and it’s easy to find a variety of articles about it by Googling (like this one or this one). Any of these articles will tell you that this condition is called “curled toe paralysis” and can be caused by improper incubation temperature, vitamin deficiency, or injury in the egg or shortly after hatching.

I suppose that if the folks at Murray McMurray had noticed Roz’s shortcoming, she never would have been placed in my box. All the chicks are newly hatched and wobbly on their feet when they’re put in boxes, so I can understand how she was missed. I did contact Murray McMurray to let them know about Roz. I thought they would appreciate the feedback so they could perhaps tweak their QA/QC procedures. And Murray McMurray did thank me for my feedback and refunded me not only for the cost of the chick, but also for the cost of her vaccinations.

I also suppose that if I would have noticed that Roz wasn’t walking when I first opened the box at the hatchery, I wouldn’t have brought her home. But since the chicks were packed into a tiny transport box, nobody was walking around much, so I also totally missed the fact that Roz had a problem. And in the greater scheme of things, having her problem missed by both me and the hatchery was the best outcome. Because this little red chick was now a day old, and had both a home and a name. And I was determined I was going to do everything I could to help her have a normal, happy life.

In addition to talking about the causes of curled toe paralysis, all those articles you find with a Google search also talk about how to remedy the problem. Basically, they all say this: Because a baby chick’s bones are malleable, curled toes can sometimes be straightened by spreading them out and holding them in place until they naturally stay in that position. One can do this by using any manner of splints or tape. I accomplished it with Roz by making her a little orthotic boot out of Band-Aids. I also moved Roz into her own box—all the other chicks were walking just fine, and were walking all over her. I kept constant vigil that first day, and she didn’t move around much. She also seemed cold. I own one baby chick heat panel and it was in use with the other chicks, so I fashioned a heat source for Roz by wrapping an electric heat pad around a shoe box. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what I had. Throughout the day I periodically collapsed the shoe box smaller and smaller to get Roz in closer contact with the heat pad. She snuggled as best she could, but she seemed uncomfortable. Also, she wasn’t making much of an attempt to walk in her new orthotic shoes, and while she drank a couple of times she wasn’t eating. I didn’t sleep well that night because I was worried about her. Finally, at 3 AM, I got out of bed, wandered into my office, sat down at my computer, and ordered another chick heater from Amazon. Even with two-day delivery, Roz would have to make do with the heat pad until it arrived.

Over the next couple of days Roz made a little progress. She started moving around in her box a little, and the Band-Aids spread her toes enough that she could walk on her feet. Her feet were weak though, and her gait was as much a crawl as it was a walk. She liked being held – no doubt she liked the warmth of my hands, and I discovered that if I held some chick food in my hand when I held her that she would peck at it. Roz was not out of the woods, but a little progress was a positive thing, and I was hopeful.

On Roz’s three-day birthday, the new chick heater arrived and I immediately installed it in Roz’s box. And Roz immediately installed herself under it and loved it quite a bit. I also removed her Band-Aid “shoes” to check her feet. Her toes were no longer smashed tightly against her legs but they were still very crooked. Regardless, they were a little better. I made her a new set of Band-Aid shoes. I also gave her some roommates. Chickens are social animals, even as babies. While she wouldn’t do well in the hubbub of the entire flock of chicks, a few friends would be good company for her. And I was thinking ahead to the day when I moved her back with the other chicks—I didn’t want her to be the lone stranger and the focus of everybody’s attention. Thus, for her three-day birthday present, she got her very own chick heater and the companionship of Percy and Penny the Sussexs and Elara Barred Rock. And it was on this day that Roz really began to get better.

Every day I would lift her out of her box and put her on the floor for a little physical therapy and eval. At the end of her first week, Roz was walking. Not like a normal chick, but nevertheless walking. Progress!

On Roz’s ten-day birthday, I took her Band-Aid shoes off forever. This girl was walking!

For her two-week birthday present, Roz got a new home—a large plastic kiddie pool—with all of the other chicks. I had been concerned about the larger flock accepting her, and fortunately they showed complete indifference. And Roz moved around like she belonged there. Interestingly though, for the first few days I had two flocks of chicks in the same enclosure – Roz and her three friends hung out as a group and usually stayed completely separate from the others. Also, I noticed that when I was doing something in their enclosure, Roz and her friends would run toward me while the others ran away. I guess there was a little imprinting going on with the four that got all that special attention.

This week will be the chicks’ two-month birthday and they’ve been living in the woodshed and a small outdoor run for quite awhile now. Roz has a little trouble getting up onto the roost due to her weak legs – to get the job done, she has to really take off and then use her wings. But when she’s walking around the run, or pecking and scratching with the other chicks, she’s just another normal chick. This lovable and tenacious little red chick is going to have a normal and happy life.