The story of Broiler Chickens

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

at 9:58 PM

If you ever lived in the wild, you'll see a mother hen around the garden with her children, pawing the ground and show his children how to look for daily bread. You'll also see how a mother hen to dig a hole in a corner to lay her eggs.

How happy hen is accompanied by loose chicks who were lucky to play-play all day. I am also a chick, but I'm not lucky. I am not a chick who came into this world through natural means. I was born in what is usually called a ranch. A farm that includes a wire cage in which hundreds of chickens in large numbers in jail. Ranch owned by a businessman. Wishes he was the only one to raise thousands of chickens are like me, make us fat as quickly as possible and as cheaply as possible, we butchered without mercy, and a large profit by selling our meat.


Maybe you also have the habit of eating chicken meat, take it as a delicious meal. Please you do not think that chicken is a food that is not obtained by means of violence. Chicken meat is cruelty products that suppress our freedom and our lives so we loved like you love your life.

ImageAnugrah the largest of any living thing is to get a warm protection provided by his mother in childhood. But I do not even get a chance to see my mother - even since the first day I came out of my shell. An employee will separate all male chicks born to the day with a machine.

Our (male chicks) is called "day-old-chicks" and is intended to be raised as "broilers". We berlimapuluh included in a cage measuring four feet long and three feet wide. That means the space we occupy ten of no more than one page of newspaper. We spent the first two weeks of our lives with a rigid spasm in a very small space is. We were given vitamins, antibiotics and special food that makes us grow fast. There was no comfort to us but makes us grow too heavy for our feet and we do not have room to move.

They want us to grow fat - which never would have happened if we move too much. Around the tenth day of our lives, we grew too big for the cage where we locked up. So we moved to another cage two times larger than the first cage.

This is not correct because our state has grown more than twice as large. We continue to be fat in the same way, and two weeks later our new cage was too small for us. So we moved to a new cage two times greater than the second cage. Same as before, this pen does not give us freedom of movement. Locked in a wire cage, we never get a chance to step on the soil surface, scavenging for food and find us.

Normal chicken-like shower of dust. We have never had dust in our prisons, not even a piece of straw had to lie down comfortably. We have to stay stuck in a place all his life. This caused severe stress to us so that we often peck each other because they feel bored. To stop this farm workers cutting edge of our part. They cut the end of our part with a heated knife or other mechanical equipment.

For weeks we suffered terrible pain from this. Our cages are made story. When the chicken in the cage above defecates, the stool fell on our wings. Sting of ammonia gas generated from the stool under the torture we are our eyes.

Some of us become blind because of this condition. Our life in the last cage is continuing like that for three or four weeks. When we reached the age of six weeks, our weight around a three-quarter pounds. I know what the fate that had befallen my brothers when it reaches this weight. They will be killed with her throat cut or broken collarbone. Soon after that, they will be thrown into boiling water so that their fur can be removed easily.

In two or three days, I will suffer the same fate. Treatment given to my mother, I have never seen, not much different. Because he did not have to grow as fast as chicken broilers, and because the ranch owner wanted him to produce as many eggs as possible during a certain period, the food given to him different from us. To make him spawn continuously (which is a normal hen can not do it), then he was given all the conditions that are not natural. He was allowed to live for one and a half years. During this period, he lay eggs three times more than the normal hen loose.

In the rancher's point of view, the productive life of laying chickens have been exhausted when they have reached the age of one and a half years. Therefore they also meet the same fate with us. After we suffered last, then you can purchase our bodies, which neatly wrapped as a "broiler chickens", from the freezer of the shop in your town or village. My mother's body will also be available for you to buy a "chicken curry".

As long as you buy our bodies, the farm will continue to maintain more and more helpless creatures like us, forcing them into a life filled with suffering and ultimately butchering them mercilessly for your consumption and income breeders. If you're eating chicken, you may not realize that you're also working with farmers in this cruel business.