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The Birds
Chickens • Turkeys

  
 
My name is Peter.
I am only a few days old. I am currently in the sweltering hot and deafening cargo section of an airplane. I am crammed into a cardboard shipping box with thousands of other 3 day old Pullets (baby turkeys) many have already died from stress, pain,
starvation, but mostly from the trauma of just having had our toes chopped off, our tiny delicate and extremely sensitive little beaks sliced off, and a host of other violent and painful manipulations and major surgeries we endured at only one day old with no anesthetic. If even one, let alone all of the things that were done to our tiny bodies had been done to a cat, dog, or human, the assailants would have been prosecuted on cruelty charges.
 
If I am still alive after being transported for days without food or water, in all weather conditions. I will end up at a huge filthy dark prison called a “grow-out” shed or warehouse.  I and all of the other all male turkeys will be fattened at a rate that our bones, hearts, and lungs can barely keep up with.
 
Due to our brutal mutilations at the hatchery (toes and beaks cut off) we will be in physical pain every day of our short lives. When we boys are only about 20 weeks old, our sensitive eyes will be nearly blinded by the first sun we see as the doors of the warehouse  open widely and we are being violently chased and grabbed by anything the men can get hold of as they thrash and cram our sore and terrified bodies into cage after cage on rows of semi trucks all headed to the slaughterhouse.
 
Again, many of us will die of heart attacks, exposure, and dehydration while being trucked to the gruesome slaughterhouse. The last thing we will feel, in addition to abject fear and desperation, will be the jolt of an electric current that pierces through our open eyes, and faces while our heads are dunked into a scalding hot, blood and feces filled, electrified water tank as we are shackled upside down hanging from our feet.  While paralyzed, but still conscious, our final moment will be when the killing blade rips through our necks, or faces, or other body parts as we writhe in terror and pain.
 
Our Mothers and father endured even worse. See here
 
Think turkey bodies labels “Free-Range” are a “humane“ Choice?  See here.
 
 
Click images to learn more
 
 

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