My Pet ChickenPosted by Ariana Huemer, ALDF Guest Blogger on September 16, 2013
As a child, I had a pet chicken who lived to be 17. Today’s “layer” chickens, or the birds referred to in the poultry industry as “broilers,” live a short and brutal life—a far cry from the 17 years of being loved and cared for that my pet chicken had.
Of course, those of us who are aware of how factory farms work know that a 17 year old hen in the egg or meat industries is unheard of. Most chickens live less than 1/10 of their natural lifespan—around 18 months if you’re a layer and a mere 6 weeks if you’re a broiler. Even industry birds who manage to escape slaughter face a lifetime of health issues.
Such was the case with Baby Nicole, a petite white hen who came to live at Hen Harbor animal sanctuary after being rescued from a factory egg farm in June 2013. The lucky break bought her and her sisters what I had hoped would be many more years of peace and fulfillment.
But hens bred for mass production have the deck stacked against them. Churning out unnaturally large eggs at a rapid rate leaves them with brittle bones and a compromised reproductive system. Uterine cancer is a leading cause of death. Complications from egg-laying gone awry are another.
When I found Nicole sitting in a corner of the barn by herself one morning, I knew something was wrong. My heart sank when I picked her up and found a painfully distended abdomen. A veterinary exam confirmed a tangle of solid masses inside her. Whether they were tumors or impacted egg material, they would have to be surgically removed.
Nicole went into surgery the next day around 11 a.m. By 1 p.m., the doctor called with the news: Nicole hadn’t survived the operation. When the doctor had opened her up, she found not one, but nine fully formed eggs clogging Nicole’s oviduct. Nicole had become “egg bound” when a large egg blocked her oviduct and other eggs coming down the line stacked up behind it. Egg-binding is a leading cause of death among commercial laying hens who are bred to lay the jumbo-sized eggs sought by shoppers.
Farm Sanctuary, who takes in hundreds of “spent” laying hens a year, told me that a good quarter of its hens arrive with egg binding or a similar condition. Some recover for a time, but most eventually succumb to reproductive problems like cancer or, as with Nicole, egg-binding.
Nicole was a dainty hen. She was small and scrappy, with a little red comb that flopped over one eye like an unruly lock of hair. She survived two years inside a factory farm only to be done in by something programmed into her genetics by an industry greedy for profit, and a public blind to the suffering behind their 99-cent carton of eggs.
I cringe every time I hear a well-intentioned person extoll the virtues of free-range farming or cage-free eggs. All hens used in commercial production, regardless of whether or not they are caged, endure the same wretched health issues, and all are callously discarded once their egg production drops off after a few short years.
As long as people continue to view animals as units of production rather than individuals, animals like my sweet, short-lived Nicole will continue to pay a hefty price.
Ariana Huemer is the director of Hen Harbor, a small hen sanctuary near Santa Cruz, California.