
Later, as I adjusted her towel, I made a horrifying discovery: Her entire underbelly was split open, revealing her internal organs. I nearly passed out, but I continued to hold her and drove to a wonderful, kind veterinarian near the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. The vet told me that she had once been sent to a factory chicken farm to do an inspection and was aghast at the horrendous treatment of the chickens there.
The vet called a bird specialist to discuss operating on the little bird (who was so young that her comb had barely begun to grow), but they decided her injuries were inoperable. The vet gently euthanized her, ending her nightmare.
Delaware seems to me to be in the midst of a holocaust for chickens. Last May, there was a fire in one of those giant chicken sheds. It was reported on the news that more than 20,000 chickens were burned alive. (The reporter used the euphemism “lost,” as if the chickens had merely been misplaced, not killed in a horrifying manner.)
I now admire more than ever the fortitude of the PETA staff who come face to face with the suffering caused by animal abusers and manage to stand strong and carry out their mission time and time again. I am prouder than ever to be a PETA member and a vegan—proud to say that I played no part in the suffering that little chicken endured at the hands of cruel people. Like all animals, she was much more than the sum of her parts: She was a precious, unique little being.
Written by PETA member Linda Bisaccia-Ammerman