Animal Cruelty in Food Production
Factory Farm Investigations Mapped is a catalog of many of the undercover factory farm investigations conducted to date. You can watch a video created from each of the 76 investigations conducted by 5 different organizations throughout the United States since 1998. The investigations are also categorized by animal - Layer Hens, Broiler Chickens, Pigs, Dairy Cows, Beef Cows, Fish, Turkeys, Ducks, or Deer. It is updated regularly. The latest undercover investigation was added in February 2012. Its a great resource. Click here to check it out.
Meat
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No gore in this video, but its powerful nonetheless. Please watch. Standard industry practice in pig farming involves the use of gestation crates, which are so small the pigs can't turn around. Newborn piglets have their tails docked and their testicles cut out without any painkillers. Sick piglets are left to suffer to death, receiving no veterinary care. Turkeys have been bred to have such large breasts that they cannot mate naturally. Turkey farmers must "milk" the male turkeys and inseminate the females. Watch how this is done here. |
Fish
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Dairy
Eggs
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Layer hens endure some of the worst cruelty of all animals. They are confined in cages so small they can't spread their wings, and they often share their cages with rotting corpses because they die too frequently for workers to keep up with removing the bodies. Even if you buy cage-free eggs, you're still supporting cruelty. All layer hens come from hatcheries like this one, where the male chicks are killed soon after hatching by being thrown into a meat grinder alive, or dumped into a trash can to suffocate to death, because they are useless to the industry. The female layer hens have their beaks sliced off with a hot blade, which causes both acute and chronic pain. |
The following description of slaughterhouse conditions is a quote from a sworn Congressional testimony given by Donna Bazemore, a former Perdue employee. It was taken from the book Slaughterhouse by Gail Eisnitz:
'The floors are covered with grease, fat, sand, and roaches. Bugs are up and down the sides of the walls. Some of the flying roaches were huge, up to four and five inches long. We’d joke that you could put a collar on them and walk them…There are flies all around, including big blowflies. Employees are constantly chewing and spitting out snuff and tobacco on the floor. There is so much fecal contamination on the floor from chickens that it kept getting into one worker’s boots and burned his feet so badly his toenails had to be amputated. The waste is not always from the chickens. The company won’t allow workers to leave the line when they have to go to the bathroom… Usually they just suffer and put a strain on their bodies, but sometimes they have to relieve themselves on the floor. The problems are just as bad in the slaughter process [as they are in the plants generally]. After they are hung, sometimes the chickens fall off into the drain that runs down the middle of the line. This is where roaches, intestines, diseased parts, fecal contamination, and blood are washed down. Workers get sick to their stomachs into the drain. The drain is a lot less sanitary than anybody’s toilet. That doesn’t seem to matter, though. The Perdue supervisors told us to take the fallen chickens out of the drain and send them back down the line.’ (page 171)
'The floors are covered with grease, fat, sand, and roaches. Bugs are up and down the sides of the walls. Some of the flying roaches were huge, up to four and five inches long. We’d joke that you could put a collar on them and walk them…There are flies all around, including big blowflies. Employees are constantly chewing and spitting out snuff and tobacco on the floor. There is so much fecal contamination on the floor from chickens that it kept getting into one worker’s boots and burned his feet so badly his toenails had to be amputated. The waste is not always from the chickens. The company won’t allow workers to leave the line when they have to go to the bathroom… Usually they just suffer and put a strain on their bodies, but sometimes they have to relieve themselves on the floor. The problems are just as bad in the slaughter process [as they are in the plants generally]. After they are hung, sometimes the chickens fall off into the drain that runs down the middle of the line. This is where roaches, intestines, diseased parts, fecal contamination, and blood are washed down. Workers get sick to their stomachs into the drain. The drain is a lot less sanitary than anybody’s toilet. That doesn’t seem to matter, though. The Perdue supervisors told us to take the fallen chickens out of the drain and send them back down the line.’ (page 171)
Did you know my mother? I'm told her name was Belle.
I don't know what she looked like, but have memories of her smell.
Did you ever hear my mother?...Did her cries pull at your heart?
I remember them quite clearly, when the men pulled us apart.
Did you drink from my mother? Did you ever taste her milk?
Did you feel her face against yours? Was her skin as soft as silk?
I've been told I had two brothers, and my sisters numbered four,
Then my mother went to slaughter, of no value anymore.
Were you there with my mother? Did you look into her eyes?
Did you see the fear within them? Did you listen to her cries?
And now MY end is coming, I am waiting with my friends,
We are huddled close together, In this place where all life ends.
Will you be there at our slaughter? For the flesh you want to eat.
Will you ever think about us? When you buy that piece of meat.
It's my turn now, I'm moving. I am going to my end.
I am urged with shouts and kicking, and with sticks that never bend.
I am thinking of my mother, and remembering her smell.
And I know we'll meet in heaven, and forget this life called Hell.
Poem by Mary Lynn.
I don't know what she looked like, but have memories of her smell.
Did you ever hear my mother?...Did her cries pull at your heart?
I remember them quite clearly, when the men pulled us apart.
Did you drink from my mother? Did you ever taste her milk?
Did you feel her face against yours? Was her skin as soft as silk?
I've been told I had two brothers, and my sisters numbered four,
Then my mother went to slaughter, of no value anymore.
Were you there with my mother? Did you look into her eyes?
Did you see the fear within them? Did you listen to her cries?
And now MY end is coming, I am waiting with my friends,
We are huddled close together, In this place where all life ends.
Will you be there at our slaughter? For the flesh you want to eat.
Will you ever think about us? When you buy that piece of meat.
It's my turn now, I'm moving. I am going to my end.
I am urged with shouts and kicking, and with sticks that never bend.
I am thinking of my mother, and remembering her smell.
And I know we'll meet in heaven, and forget this life called Hell.
Poem by Mary Lynn.
