The obvious: Animals understand what others of their species are saying to them. And just as with us, some are artists!
Hope...
I do regular slaughterhouse vigils locally here in Whanganui, New
Zealand. Like most other people, I find them hard, and in the nearly
eight years I’ve been doing them it hasn’t got one jot easier.
Yesterday at one of the slaughterhouses, that kills cows and pigs, I
witnessed and recorded the sad bellowing, lowing, and mooing of 100
or so cows trapped in holding pens. What I understood was that the
animals were communicating their distress and frustration. But to
the other cows their communications had specific means. The reason
for this, to state, the obvious, is ‘Cows understand Cow.’
And of course Pigs also understand ‘Pig’. I witnessed as a truckload
arrived under the cover of darkness, and their screams can clearly
be heard on my video. Researchers have found that these smart
animals have plenty to say, and that in their squeals, grunts and
oinks there are significant codes. In an outdoor setting these codes
may mean asking and telling other pigs where they are, or where food
sources can be located, or to signal where there’s danger, to name
just a few. The screams I hear at the slaughterhouse as the pigs are
forced off the truck into pens are no doubt alerts, warnings, angry
or fearful responses – and possibly even reassurances. ‘It’ll be OK
guys, let’s just stick together.’
Pigs are so similar to us physiologically that we can have their
hearts, albeit modified, transplanted inside our body. It breaks my
own heart that up to 60% of pigs in my country, New Zealand, are
forced to live their lives in smelly indoor hovels, standing in
their own sh^t, without any bedding or stimulation to be found in
their tiny, barren, concrete pens for the duration of their short,
abused lives. Mother pigs have the worst lives of all, confined here
and all over the world in sow crates and farrowing crates where they
cannot even turn around, and are helpless to go to the assistance of
a sick baby, or to build a nest for them.
I have seen this nest-building instinct for myself. A few months ago
I rescued three pigs from slaughter, and kept them on my property
until they could be rehomed. Although it was summer, the weather can
suddenly turn bad. One day black clouds rolled over ahead and it
began to bucket down. I ran out to see what I could do, and observed
Hope, the only female, going to where I had put hay bales, and
starting to pull them apart. When my three piggies started to burrow
into the hay I realised Hope had built a shelter from the rain for
her and her brothers.
Male pigs also build nests. A friend who lives in Victoria,
Australia, tells me that his Sunny Boy spends hours crawling through
junk to collect objects for his nest, and ‘goes nuts’ at his humans
if they try to touch it. I guess that’s the artistic temperament!
Gary told me that his nest is 100% Sunny’s artwork, with the
treasures he has found deliberately placed in various juxtapositions
around where he lies. Gary has seen him carefully contemplating
what’s worthy of his art installation, and the decision is never
easy. Life choices and self expression are important to Sunny,
according to Gary, and are his biggest traits. Sometimes Sunny
builds a ‘wall’ in front of him when he is sleeping, a way to keep
him safe while he snoozes. Obviously he has nothing to fear, but an
animal’s instincts are strong.
I will continue doing my vigils until every slaughterhouse in my
country has closed down for good. This will only happen when people
stop paying farmers and slaughterhouse workers to do their work. I
will continue until these consumers make the decision to adopt a
healthy, sustainable, compassionate vegan diet.
Good luck to me.
Gary’s artistic Sunny Boy....