Monday, April 23, 2012

The Chicken Truck

I spent today communing with nature. I took lots of pictures of butterflies and bumblebees, flowers and weeds, twigs and trees and the whole thing made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The day was beautiful and sunny without a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect day. I saw a lovely sunset on my way home and all in all, I was feeling pretty happy. Then I saw them.

I noticed some fluffy white things floating in the air as I went down the freeway. Then I noticed more fluffy white things. Then I noticed a lot of fluffy white things. The next thing I noticed was an 18 wheeler and the fluffy white things were coming from it.

It was a truck full of chickens and the fluffy things were feathers. I've seen chicken trucks before and I've see the cloud of feathers  that follow them but this one was different. First of all, the cages were open to the wind. There wasn't any protection from 70 miles per hour of wind and noise blasting those poor birds. The other thing was that the chickens appeared to be crammed in the cages so tightly they couldn't even move.

These chickens have room to move. The chickens I saw did not.

You know how chickens have little red comb thingies on their heads? Well these birds' little comb thingies weren't very red. They were sort of pale pink and dull looking. I guess if I had a red comb thingy and I had to ride in an open truck at 70 MPH, crammed in so tightly I couldn't move for God knows how long, mine would be pale, too.

I didn't get a long look at the birds. I sort of couldn't bear to look at them. It made me so sad. I don't know if a chicken can look sad or not, but I swear that these birds looked miserable. I'm a softy when it comes to critters and I hate, hate, hate to see them being hauled to what is probably a fate not of their choosing.

I tried to put on some happy music to take my mind off the poor birds because I new there was absolutely nothing I could do for them but the music didn't help. I turned off the radio and rode the rest of the way home in silence. It's been 3 hours since I saw those birds and I'm still depressed. I wish I knew that they were being taken to some farm way out somewhere nice where they could frolic and scratch the dirt and live in cushy air conditioned coops for the rest of their days. But I know it's not true.

I might have to become a vegetarian. And a chicken rescuer. If you see a chicken walking around, pick it up and give it a hug. I'm going to.

1 comment:

  1. i've been a vegetarian for 13 years now. chicken trucks make me sad too. how can they even breathe while speeding down the highway? i wonder how many are dead already when they arrive at their destination.