Aquaculture : mass torture for sentient fishes

They’re adapted to navigate vast oceans but fishes in aquaculture are forced to live in tight enclosures where they constantly knock into each other, damaging their sensitive fins and skin.  They live in their own waste, are bullied by larger fish, pumped with antibiotics, starved and roughly handled.  They suffer from injuries, parasitic infections, deformities, disease, and extreme stress, and research has shown that many are blind and have hearing loss.   Forty percent die even before slaughter, usually from slow suffocation or from having their hearts pierced (without prior stunning).

The science is now clear that fish feel pain.   They are also intelligent and complex sentient beings, but have no legal protection from cruel treatment.   Because they are not protected, fish in aquaculture endure a life of endless suffering.  

Watch the video showing disturbing footage of salmon being stomped on in a fish farm.  

Read more about aquaculture here and take PETA’s pledge to go vegan for 30 days.

 

 

 

 

 

‘What Pom Pom Taught Me….’

When End Animal Slaughter’s Sandra Kyle looked after a one month old lamb she found out some endearing things about sheep.   

It is estimated we slaughter more than half a billion animals every single year for food, and also for religious sacrifice.

See Sandra’s blog below, and read PETA’s article about un-ewe-sual facts about this much-underestimated species. 

 

WHAT POM POM TAUGHT ME

When one of my music student’s family went away, they asked me if I would look after their pet Romney lamb. Pom Pom entered my home for the first time wearing two nappies, and proceeded to bound around excitedly. When you are just three weeks into this world, everything is new, everything is an adventure – there are so many sights, sounds and smells you are experiencing for the first time!   His human mother showed how to prepare his formula and bottle feed him, an experience I won’t quickly forget! It was like holding onto a suction pipe, and I wondered if my arm would disappear down his throat as he pulled on the teat in strong, intense gulps, his long tail wagging in enjoyment, just like a dog’s.

I kept Pom Pom outside in my back yard for most of the day, with frequent visits for a feed or cuddle, and at night he slept inside in a cage lined with hay. Once or twice I would get up to check on him and when he saw me he would shake off sleep and get to his feet, pressing his forehead against the cage for me to stroke his head and ears. I could tell he enjoyed, and got comfort from, this simple act of affection, and a bond soon got established between us.

If I were out in the unfenced area of my yard Pom Pom would be with me, supervised so he wasn’t tempted to jump over the low fence that borders the front of my property. He would go from area to area, bush to bush, curious and enthusiastic, sampling some of the food Nature provides his kind.  At first he didn’t seem to know how to eat properly and I frequently saw him with a blade of grass hanging out of his mouth while he made contorted mouth and head movements trying to get it inside! Pom Pom didn’t have a sheep Mum or flock to show him what to do, and some things he had to trial and error for himself.

When I needed to put him in the secure area at the back of my property, which he didn’t like so much because there was no company, he would jump up and bunt the fence as I closed the gate, to show me how angry he was. When Pom Pom wanted food or company, he would maaaa loudly, a sound that reminded me of a baby crying.

One of the cutest things about Pom Pom was when his spirits were high he would run around the house, from time to time springing in the air and kicking his back legs together sideways, like Gene Kelly in Singing in the Rain.   Sometimes at the end of such a display he would finish off by landing on all four feet at the same time – thump thump thump thump thump, and then come to a complete halt as if to say ‘Well, that was fun! What now?’

Looking after Pom Pom for ten days confirmed what I already knew. That sheep are sentient beings. They feel pain and sorrow. They have intelligence, desires, drives, perceptions, fears and joys. They respond to love. Nature has equipped them with inner knowledge, but they still have to learn how to do the most basic things, just like human children do.

When his family came to pick him up they all noticed how Pom Pom had grown. He was already big and strong, his coat had grown thick and he was much heavier. They noticed how he didn’t want to leave my side. I knew that he would miss me for all of five minutes, and then he would adjust again to his human family, and his life with them. Pom Pom has his own secure paddock next to their house, and plenty of interaction with his human family. Soon the family will be adopting two more sheep, so he will also have the company of his own kind.

I feel angry and sad when I think of the impassive, noble faces of sheep I have seen on slaughter trucks, mud-caked and packed together, commodities for farmers and meat eaters alike. I feel angry and sad when I think of all the newborn lambs like Pom Pom who, come Christmas, will arrive at slaughterhouse gates, maaaaing with fear and confusion. My heart hurts and I shake my head with disbelief in the knowledge that staff will push them around, and listen to them crying like babies before they shatter their brains and slit their throats.

I am beside myself with sorrow when I think of the half billion animals, many of them sheep, brutally sacrificed every year for Eid and other religious festivals.

This is no way for civilised human beings to be living their lives. Eating baby animals, eating any animals, requires an act of violence and injustice. It is barbaric to be slaughtering intelligent, sensitive, sentient – and possibly sapient – beings for our taste buds, when we don’t need to be doing it.

If you like to eat roast lamb, has reading this account made any difference to you at all?   Maybe not, but if not, why not?

Only you can answer that question.

Gandhi’s Birthday An Opportunity to Remember Innocent Victims

There is an International Day for nearly everything, including the toilet, the frog, the coffee bean – and the farmed animal.   On World Farmed Animal Day it is an opportunity to remember and mourn the 70 billion cows, pigs, chickens, turkeys, and other sentient land-based animals who lead lives of sheer misery in the world’s factory farms, and are then brutally slaughtered for our dinner table.  End Animal Slaughter contributor LYNLEY TULLOCH urges us to stop turning the other way, and stand up and fight for their rights.

 

If you blinked you may have missed it. The 2nd October 2019 was the ‘World Day for Farmed Animals’. It is also Ghandi’s birthday. There seems to be a day for everything, even a ‘World Frog Day’ on March 20 and a ‘World Toilet Day’ coming up in November 19.  I am still patiently waiting for ‘World Coffee Day’ – oh wait. It was on the 1st October. Not to mind, if I missed it. I drank my usual amount of black coffee on that day and celebrated it in private.

There is often an unexpected message behind many of these special days. For example ‘World Toilet Day’ was convened by United Nations and aims to raise awareness about sanitation issues across the globe. Apparently 2.5 billion people across the globe lack access to proper toilets. I am not sure if that includes the unpopular freedom campers here in New Zealand. But what about farmed animals? New Zealand has many more farmed animals than it does freedom campers. It is only fair that they get a look in. What is 2nd October mean for farmed animals? ‘World Day for Farmed Animals’ was set up in 1983 as part of an international campaign of Farm Animal Rights Movement (FARM), from Washington DC.

Here in New Zealand ‘World Day for Farmed Animals’ was marked by Slaughterhouse Vigils, which are part of the ANIMAL SAVE movement. In Wellington, Christchurch, Nelson and Whanganui, activists stood outside slaughter houses to honour the victims who were being killed behind closed doors.

Standing at the slaughter house gates is one way of making visible the suffering of animals. It is a rather unpalatable fact that in order to get onto your plate animals must first be farmed and killed. It all gets hidden behind closed doors and smelly transport trucks. And the killing is definitely out of sight. We are told it is ‘humane’ and that there are rules and regulations to ensure animals live well before being killed.

Call it humane if you want, but I am not convinced that having my brains electrocuted or shattered before my throat is cut would be my preferred form of death. I’d prefer to go out in my old age while I am sitting quietly drinking coffee, nursing a frog, and sharing the need for worldwide sanitation on social media. Well, anything really, apart from death by electrocution and stabbing. I think there should be a ‘World Day to Call a Spade a Spade’.  No death this way is ever humane – and if you can’t say you would be happy having it done to you, then you have no business inflicting it on another living and sentient being.

It’s the reason I drink my coffee black and bitter. It matches my mood. I’m terribly bitter about the plight of farmed animals for a variety of reasons. I know humans have been domesticating and farming animals for about 10,000 years. I realize it is oftentimes regarded as a turning point in human evolution. I’m not here to judge my ancestors who have been dead for thousands of years. They might have lived and breathed, blood dribbling down their stubbly beards as they chomped into a half-cooked piece of meat, but I am not certain it justifies what we do to animals today.

My ancient ancestors did what they had to. They set their square jaws rather firmly, gathered up the goats on the hills and put them in a pen. I can’t argue with that. But I am here in 2019 in peace, with my coffee (no milk), feeling bitter about the calves who died for those who like cow’s milk in their coffee. Around 2 million calves are killed every year in New Zealand for the milk their mother’s make. These cows are impregnated with the express purpose of inducing lactation from birthing. ‘World Day for Farmed Animals’ was an opportunity to try and raise awareness of this, and other, unpalatable farming facts.

‘World Day for Farmed Animals’ is, like other days, an attempt to make visible some injustices in our world. Coffee growers often get paid unfairly for their produce – hence we have ‘World Coffee Day’. Frogs may become extinct. We have World Frog Day.  Animals are raised in intense confinement and filth and killed by electrocution and stabbing. Literally billions of them in fact. Is one day enough?

The animals that are killed and farmed include newly hatched male chicks who are ground up alive or suffocated. Laying hens who are crammed in small wire cages. Pigs in gestation crates, pigs in gas chambers, piglets who have their curly tails cut off without anesthetic, dairy cows who have their calves taken from them, farmed fish who suffocate slowly. Newborn dairy goats whose heads are slammed on concrete.


Gandhi, whose birthday it was on ‘World Day for Farmed Animals’, famously said: “Be the change you want to see in the world”. So I try. I don’t eat animals or animal products. I rescue bobby calves. I try.   It is all any of us can ever do.

We have nearly a whole year to prepare for the next ‘World Day for Farmed Animals’.  During that time more than 70 billion land will be killed for food globally. The scale and the suffering are unimaginable.

Don’t blink next year. Stand up and fight for their lives. All 70 billion of them.

Meteor, the fugitive from slaughter, will probably have his life spared

It is not only Meteor the fugitive yak who should be spared from slaughter.   All animals should be, writes End Animal Slaughter contributor LYNLEY TULLOCH 

 

When animals escape from the slaughter house truck, there is often media interest. I often wonder what it is about this scenario that captures the public imagination so much?

A recent story reported by BBC news, concerns an “aloof yak” who has gone on the run following his escape from a farm truck on the way to the butcher. This yak has a name – Meteor – and he has been raised for meat on a small family farm in Buckingham, in Rural Virginia.

After his escape, it is reported that Meteor crashed through a stop sign. He also visited several locations, including the grounds of Orchard House Bed and Breakfast. He looked “happy to be there” according to the B&B owner Deb Verplank. However, when an animal control officer and four policemen showed, Meteor didn’t hang around.   “I really think Meteor knew what was going on and where he was headed, and decided it wasn’t for him” said Verplank.

It strikes me as strange that one of the very reasons people feel comfortable with eating animals (their diminished rationality) now stands out as the reason that he should be saved. Verplank called him ‘smart’, and wants him to live. Is Meteor a stand-alone intelligent bull who deserves to live, whereas the rest must die?  I don’t think Meteor is smarter than other bulls, and even if he is, this should not be a reason to save his life.

I don’t think Meteor is smarter than other bulls, and even if he is, this should not be a reason to save his life. 

Having raised bovines myself I know that they will attempt to sav themselves when in perceived danger. Being on a moving truck is terrifying for them, and given the opportunity, a single animal will do anything possible to find his way back to the safety of the herd.  The movement, the noise of the engine and other loud, unusual sounds and smells will spook any bovine. Meteor managed to escape, but he is no different from any other bull.  He is not a hero, but a desperate animal who knows his life is in danger, and is trying to get back to safety.

Right now Meteor will be terrified, alone, without a herd, and let down in the worst possible way by the people who claimed to care for him – the farmers themselves, who were sending him to slaughter.

Right now Meteor will be terrified, alone, without a herd, and let down in the worst possible way by the people who claimed to care for him – the farmers themselves, who were sending him to slaughter.

There is also another theme that emerges during these kind of escapes. The animals are often referred to using language suited for an escaped prisoner. The BBC reported that Meteor was ‘on the loose’ and ‘missing’ and ‘currently on the run’. So on the one hand, Meteor has become a minor celebrity and on the other, he is a felon.   He is the felon that everyone is rooting for, even while they tuck into a beef burger.

I know a lot of people find his story amusing. I just find it desperately sad. Meteor is said to have headed for the mountains.   He has his freedom, but he will be suffering. He has lost the only home he ever knew, and the herd he belonged to as well. He will be feeling very vulnerable and traumatized.

The layers of meaning attached to Meteor’s story is typical of such stories.   The animal is smart, knew his fate, attempted a daring escape and therefore deserves to live.  It looks like Meteor’s life may be spared, as ‘owner’ Robert Cissell was reported as saying that he would ‘live out his life, now he is a celebrity’.

I really hope Meteor is allowed to live out his natural life.  All animals deserve to, Meteor included.

See also:

Cow swam for over 5 hours in a desperate attempt to escape certain death, but was slaughtered that night.  

 

REFLECTIONS FROM A TRAVELLING VEGAN

End Animal Slaughter contributor MAYA COHEN-ROHEN’S family getaway triggered reflections on the ugly reality behind New Zealand’s picturesque fields and peaceful herds.  

 

A ski-ing holiday was just the ticket for vegan mother and author, Maya Cohen-Ronen

 

My family has Just returned from a fantastic three-day stay at and around the Whakapapa ski field, Ruapehu, one of New Zealand’s premiere alpine locations.   From our home in Wellington, the capital, we travelled by car all the way north to Lake Taupo in the middle of the North Island, and back again.   There are no complaints about the weather – Mother Nature turned on both some beautiful dry spells, as well as a snow blizzard!  It was a lovely experience up on the ski field to look out and see a layer of fresh powdery snow brighten the slopes.

It was a family escape, a welcomed break, and also a memorable experience. We had no trouble finding vegan food and we were served a sumptuous vegan high tea in our hotel.  Everything was fantastic about our holiday, except for two things.

The first, which most New Zealand animal guardians would recognise, is the painful inability to travel with companion animals in our country. It is near-impossible to find a hotel with a policy of accepting animals, and even leaving them in the car while walking out and about is strictly prohibited in places like the Tongariro National Park.  We had no choice but to book our dog Phoebe into a kennel on the way. It was a good facility, but we were saddened to leave her behind. She, of course, did not understand that it was just a temporary arrangement, so the sense of betrayal was excruciating.   Compared with how easy it was to travel almost everywhere with our beloved Luther (Rip) when we lived in Scotland, New Zealand is lagging way behind.

 

The family’s beloved dog Phoebe goes with them everywhere.

 

The second, is… we saw so many cows.

SO. MANY. COWS.

FIELDS AND FIELDS of cows.

Some were males, some dairy cows, some bulls, some heifers. Slaves one and all to the profiteers of the meat and dairy industries. Short-lived victims of oblivious addicts to their flesh and secretions. I wonder how people who cannot live without their steak and cheese see them as they stand, innocent and peaceful,  in the fields.   Sometimes I think they don’t even see them at all.

But we did. And it was horrid. It is now spring, calving season.  As we were arriving we gushed at fields full of beautiful, precious young babies. On our way home, these babies were already separated from their mothers so the lactating, grieving cows could “give us” their milk. So young and helpless, some of the calves were not even ready to stand yet!  We also saw a lot of sheep and adorable lambs everywhere. The lambs were all so playful. I saw one running to her mother, who was calling her, just like my daughter would run to me. Somewhere else, two curious babies were exploring a little pond together. They were all so cute and childlike, oblivious to the fate of cruel, bloody slaughter awaiting them in just a few months.  Seeing all this I was angry.  I felt like screaming.  This is all because of us. Flesh eating zombies move amongst us! The cafeteria at Whakapapa stank with the stench of rotting corpses covered in sauce. Can meat-eaters even smell the stink of their choices, I wonder?

If you consume meat and dairy, please wake up!  Open your eyes and see what vegans see!  Stop being the cause of innocent animals suffering.

Release yourselves from the matrix and exit gracefully.  You will never regret it.

Maya is the author of a dystopian thriller ‘The Shed’, and is currently working on her second book.

It’s Time For A New Ethic In Our Relationship With Other Animals

Our treatment of farmed animals is a serious moral transgression, writes End Animal Slaughter contributor LYNLEY TULLOCH.  

 

We’ve all had a bad day every now and again. Some are worse than others, involving a threat to our lives or our safety. Imagine if that kind of bad day were also your last?

I remember someone telling me a while back about some steers that she raised on her property for their meat. These steers were friendly and loved eating apples. When the time came for them to be killed, she would call one of them over. As she was giving the steer an apple, the home kill chap planted a bullet in his head. The steer was having a good day that turned into a very bad one.

They trust us, and we betray them.

In her book ‘The Ultimate Betrayal. Is There Happy Meat?’ , Hope Bohanec discusses the ethics of such a betrayal. When an animal trusts you with their life, says Bohanec, killing them is the worst act of violence and inhumanity possible. She says, “the more humanely an animal is treated, the greater the bond of trust, and the greater the bond of trust, the more severe the crime of betrayal.” There has been a moral transgression, which includes fraud, betrayal and violence.

There has been a moral transgression, which includes fraud, betrayal and violence.

Furthermore, Bohanec discusses the lies we tell ourselves about ‘humane slaughter’ and the idea that it is acceptable to kill an animal as long as she or he lived a good life. You often hear people talk about how the animal had a great life, and only had one bad day (the day of his/her death). One bad day, when the sun was shining down through dappled leaves, and the apple’s sweetness burst in the steer’s mouth. Maybe out of the corner of his eye the steer saw the man raise his gun, but it was too late. One bad moment of realization, and he was dead.

We need to become very real about what we are doing when we kill animals for their meat. We are taking the life of a living, sentient being. This animal does not want to lose their life, it is all they have. Once they are gone their individuality and sentience goes with them, and any possibility they ever had to enjoy themselves drains out of them with their blood.

Too often we have minimized an animal’s suffering on the basis that she or he is not human. We reduce their rich emotional lives to one-dimensional instincts. But animals, just like us, are driven not just by instincts, but by subjective feelings.  Current scientific research convincingly demonstrates that animals can feel the same emotions as humans.

The scientific consensus is that animals feel similar emotions to ourselves.

This much I know to be true. But there are some things I don’t know.

I don’t know what the steer’s big thumping heart felt like when it beat its last beat.  I don’t know if the steer choked on his apple on the way down. I don’t know if he was in pain. I don’t know if nearby birds took flight in fear at the sound of the gun, or if the other steers bolted in panic. I don’t know how the steer was feeling when he woke up that very morning and stretched his legs. I don’t know if the sun was shining that day, his last.  I don’t know so many things.

And I don’t know how humans can hold life in such contempt.

But I do know a whole lot more than the Eighteenth century Western philosopher Rene Descartes. Descartes did not agree that animals feel pain. Despite loving his dog and caring for him, he stated that animals were mere automatons – reacting to external stimuli as a matter of mere reflex or impulse.

I don’t need to do scientific experiments to know animals have deep feelings. There is a pig pen at the back of my house and every Saturday one of them is killed for meat. There is no denying the absolute terror in the squeals. The last guttural horrified gasp as the pig chokes to death on his own blood is harrowing. That last grasp at life sinks into my stomach like a stone, turns my own blood to frozen water. I can sense his feeling of powerlessness as he realized he was being killed. It travelled though my body too. We are all one.

That last grasp at life sinks into my stomach like a stone, turns my own blood to frozen water.

Helpless, terrified pigs awaiting their turn for ‘backyard’ slaughter.  

In focusing on the sameness between humans and animals, new questions are beginning to emerge regarding our treatment of them. Currently humans parade around the Earth as if animals are the mere backdrop to our superior existence, instead of our kin. We often treat them as nothing more than stuffed puppets to look at, or bags of meat encased in skin to eat.

This is a plea to re-think our relationship with animals, especially farmed animals. Farmed animals are the most abused and betrayed animals on Earth. We breed them specifically to satisfy our desires for food and clothes. We mutilate their bodies, forcibly impregnate them, incarcerate them in filthy concrete pens, cages and feedlots, and jam them full of antibiotics to keep them alive just long enough for them to get big enough to eat. We also kill their offspring if they are not wanted ( for example male chicks in the egg industry and bobby calves in the dairy industry).

Animals are our kin, not our inferiors. We need to develop a new ethic guiding our relationship with them based on compassion, respect, and care.