A day in the life of a chicken in a low welfare industrial farm
These chickens don’t have a name or a number because they are packed, thirty thousand in each of eight sheds, on a farm. Here is what one experiences:
She does not wake up at dawn as she would do naturally with the rising sun because she has never seen daylight. The shed she lives in has no windows and the artificial lights are left on to create long days and short nights making it difficult for her to rest properly.
There is no peace in the shed. Huge fans at one end crank air down the length of the building and water and feed pipes rattle and squeak.
Around her thousands cluck and call, adding to the constant din. There was more space in the sheds when they were younger but now they are almost fully grown there is little room to move and each chicken has less space than a piece of A4 paper.
She tries to stand up but the pain in her legs and the heavy weight of her chest makes it difficult and she is only able to waddle forward.
At five weeks old she is nearly full sized, which should have taken eight weeks but years of selective breeding have designed her to reach full weight for meat in a shorter time and her weak legs can’t keep pace with her body’s rapid growth.
Industrially farmed birds are crammed into filthy crates for transportation. Crushed, the birds bruise and hemorrhage.
Even if she could move easily like some of the other chickens, there would be nowhere to go and nothing to explore.
Her natural instincts are to forage for food, wandering far and wide in her search of seeds and grubs. She needs to dust bathe to keep her skin and feathers healthy and to perform basic natural behaviors such as perching.
But the shed where she lives is bare except for feed, water and litter.
The lack of natural light and the barren environment means there is nothing to do other than eat and drink and she’s suffering as a consequence.
Without being able to dust bathe her skin has developed irritations and legions and the poor quality litter is full of her and the other chicken’s own droppings, which has given her painful sores and burns on her legs and feet.
As she slowly makes her way to the feeder, her heart straining in her chest, she starts to struggle. The shed is hot and the air is thick with feces. She sits again, too tired and sore to continue.
The acrid fumes of ammonia in the air sting her eyes and have damaged her lungs giving her breathing problems.
So much of her body hurts. Around her thirty thousand little hearts beat weakly.
Too many of them never having experienced a life worth living.
Every day, millions of chickens experience physical and psychological suffering on farms around the world. Without intervention, we face a runaway problem, as the global demand for chicken meat means that food companies often choose to prioritize profit over animal welfare. We are focused on improving the lives of indoor-farmed chickens through the use of high welfare systems.
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