The following story is written by Ahuva Binyamin, a dedicated activist in Israel. She is with the group, Meat The Victims IL. Submitted courtesy of United Poultry Concerns, Machipongo, VA.
I want to tell you about the action we took in a chicken farm of the broiler industry. I have seen photos and heard stories, but never documented in a chicken coop.
The second I got in, I was extremely shocked by the ammonia smell there. I’ve been to many dairy farms and thought I had smelled everything already. It turned out I hadn’t.
The second shocking thing was the number of the chicks, thousands of them . . . three weeks old, tiny, sweet and deformed.
Some of them couldn’t even raise their head or walk because of the genetic manipulations they have gone through in order to reach a weight of 3 kg (6.5 lbs.) since a smaller weight is not profitable for the industry. A wild chicken weighs only 1 kg (about 2 lbs.) as an adult. We have met chicks who just recently hatched from their egg and already reached the weight of adult chickens.
I took a deep breath and sat down. The moment I sat down was the moment when I and the chicks united. For a few hours I became one of them, one of the small chicks who lives amid feces and urine, and smelling the ammonia vapor instead of fresh air. For a few hours I don’t see the sunrise nor the day light. I’m sitting in the dark on a filthy ground, in artificial light and fan ventilation. Everything is sealed. There’s no window. There’s no air.
I’ve been sitting there, and suddenly the little chicks gathered around me and started playing with the zipper buckles of my bag. Curious babies who crave for a bit of love and empathy.
The moment arrived when we were told that the farmer is willing to release 11 chicks. I was privileged to be one of those who carried them from the prison to freedom.
I went out, deeply excited and overwhelmed by the announcement. I changed into sterile clothes with chills running through my body.
I received the little chick into my hands. I hugged and covered her. I held her pressed against my body and whispered to her: “You are heading for a new life, a life of freedom.”
She understood me. I’m sure. She pressed against me and accepted the hug, leaned on me, her body next to my body.
It’s hard to describe this moment. Any word I may write would belittle the incredible experience, the magnificent moment, the immense excitement. Understanding that now she begins a new life. A life of freedom, love and care. Understanding that she has won life, instead of being a schnitzel or a chicken slice on some plate. I realized that the phrase “Whoever saves one life saves the world entire” is not a cliché. It is true. I had the privilege of doing so.
I was among the first activists who received the rescued chicks, but on my way to the car that was supposed to take her to the sanctuary, I lingered a little. I wanted to be with her for a little while, to keep hugging and wrapping her with the love that rose inside me. To keep giving her the feeling of the pleasant wind and the caressing sun. I knew that from now on she’s going to have a lot of all these: love, sun, wind, fresh air, fresh water to enjoy. But I didn’t want this moment to end. I didn’t want to depart from her yet, while she is hugged and wrapped in my arms, just the two of us in the whole world.
I’m not sure that I’ve managed to convey that emotional and exhilarating moment as I have experienced it. There are no words in the dictionary to describe such a powerful experience.
I hope that I’ve made you understand a little bit of what was happening inside my heart. And if not . . . you are welcome to join us for the next action and maybe you will have the privilege of feeling this way too.
About the Author
Scotiagirl is touched by your compassion for one of God’s creatures. Certainly they cannot all be rescued from the fate to which they were born but as one who has raised many animals “for the table ,” (she’d rather not say “for slaughter,” ) Scotiagirl does believe that we should strive to enhance the quality of life for even the most lowly of creatures in our care. Few animals are more precious to her than a newborn lamb and she has taken orphans into her home, found near frozen in the snow, warmed them in her kitchen, nourished them with colostrum taken from their deceased mothers, put diapers on them and raised the in her home until they become strong enough to rejoin the flock. All this so that, when it became their time, she would load them in her truck and bring them to be “processed,” a nice word, she supposes, for “butchered” . Why? Because they came into this world as food, and this is where food comes from. Too many people don’t seem to be able to make that connection. But, just because an animal will someday be on your dinner plate, Scotiagirl believes it is still entitled to receive the best care she can provide for it. Make no mistake, Scotiagirl is not an “activist” but rather a realist.
Amen.
OTOH, when you get out of your car to pump gas at Royal Farms, a different smell assaults your senses.
Many thanks for this very moving article. I grew up on a dairy farm with adjunct chicken houses and can confirm first-hand everything written in the primary article. I agree with Scotiagirl and MJM generally, except that I know, first-hand, that it is possible, at least for me, to treat farm animals humanely and not to use or sell them as food. I have observed a vegetarian (which is much easier than a vegan) diet for more than 25 years and, at age 76, consider myself healthy and not wanting for any dietary supplements. Those who have read my few comments to earlier MIRROR articles can easily determine my political orientation–firmly on the populist Right. Finally, the damage to soil and acquifers resulting from the industrial poultry and meat business, in addition to the farming of soybeans and corn to feed these animals, is turning Shore counties in Md, Del, and Va into virtual animal processing dumps. In Somerset County, where I grew up, the agricultural topsoil layer is thinning progressively, and brackish water from the Bay tributaries is seeping into farmland whose acquifers are being drained One can project, 75 years from now, a depopulated county consisting largely of saline marsh, whereas at the beginning of the 20th century it was a prosperous agricultural fruit and vegetable exporter.
Don, really appreciated your comments but, make no mistake about it, although Scotiagirl raised lamb, chickens, pigs, calves and beef primarily for food and related by- -products, she made quite a number of pets out of them along they way!
Dear Scotiagirl, I make a point never to criticize meateaters. These types of holier-than-thou critics are almost always obnoxious leftists whom I can’t possibly relate to. I do have one question, though: how does a person feel about eating an animal that was a pet? Even if I ate meat, I couldn’t do it.
Scotiagirl did not want to take up too much space here so she did not elaborate…but since you asked: in the case of a hand raised bottle lamb, what nearly always happened was it was not butchered but rather was kept or sold to someone to be a “bell” sheep (could either be a ewe or wether–neutered ram) and sometimes raised to teach children for 4H projects. Other times such an animal might be saved from slaughter because it would be used as breeding stock (for herd improvement, in the case of an exceptional specimen) Anyway, this type of animal is very useful to help anyone without a herding dog (and there are MANY such “backyard” shepherds) to gather the herd, move them from place to place, etc. so that they can be sheared, put in pens, receive medical attention and so forth. The “bell” sheep, because it was a pet, in not afraid of humans. I have had a couple of pet sheep that became very useful as companions to orphan foals and\or nervous race horses. Yes, I do eat animals but none that I remember raising as “pets”. The point of my original post in this segment was that I firmly believe all animals, whether raised for the table or any other purpose, should be fed, housed and cared for properly . Sounds like you and Scotiagirl can agree on that !