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.
Originally posted on Meat the Victims
Three-week-old Chicks...
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.
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