free love, free fight
It’s 2:30 in the morning as I am writing these lines. I don’t know how many days have passed since the rescue. Time doesn‘t matter in this case. Inside I feel like it was yesterday.
I stop my car further from the facility where the rest of the team will disembark. Then I park the car and join the rest of the team as quickly as possible. After a few minutes we enter the woods. The path is pre-marked.
Text Lukáš Krása
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I don’t want to go to places like that anymore. It’s the same misery just in different scenes. It’s getting harder to leave.
We went to rescue ducks. We took nine of them. One of them was lying on her back. Weak and light. In that moment I held her in my hands I knew it was bad. She died just a few kilometers from where she would have died if we hadn’t come.
We took eight of them home. To life. To better times.Thanks to everyone who is with us.
MK
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During several nights, we took a total of 239 hens from cages and aviaries.
What can I say when it’s still the same and still the same? When the dust, the stench, the halls full of feathers, the screams of stolen lonely lives are not lost anywhere?
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There is peace and quiet and a black sky above us. It’s raining a little. We walk through the forest along the path we have prepared and marked a few days before the event. I’d rather get ready now than later wander, make unnecessary noise and waste time.
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Written by Petra Musilová.
I listened to the wail of animals while I was watching one of the roads inside the factory farm. I tried to prepare myself for the horror I was going to witness. For a moment I turned back to the forest. To the nature that people stole from animals in these buildings. Yet the only thing that separated them was just stupid wooden door.
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One of the most important moments of my life was when I saw little piglets playing in a meadow. They ran and jumped and there was so much joy and carefree childhood in them that I just stood there smiling.
At that time I knew small village barns and grunting pigs imprisoned there, I knew those cheerful slaughter gatherings to which the whole family came for plum brandy and death. I also knew big pig farms with coughing pigs, breeding halls with sows in gestation crates and dead piglets strewn with flies. I’ve also heard pigs crying and screaming at the slaughterhouse.
And now I stand here with other people on a clear cold night in front of the fence. Behind it there are many buildings that produce pork. We go inside, we take one piglet, second, third, wrap them in towels and leave. At least for these three we have a better world.
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I am tired of counting our rescue actions. So I will just write that in a few nights we took out of grief and suffering 217 hens.
There are places we visit more that once. We remember how girls look shortly after they are stocked in these halls. They are calm, they let us pet them and hold them in our arms, people in safe homes are often amazed how beautiful they are. The time goes by, some are dying, some are surviving and those who are still alive are loosing their minds, strenght and will to live. To every tiny impuls they react insanely, they are frightened by light, sound, they scream a lot and flap their wings and people in their safe homes pity them and tell us that it’s so terrible what people did to them. We sometimes go to rescue them just a couple of days before human hands snatch them out of their suffering just to load them into transport to be slaughtered. In their last days those animals are letargic, surrendered and some of them will not survive this even in their new home. I already know this when I take them in my arms.
We lie in a cornfield and wait for the sunset. It is raining. We are wet and muddy. In front of us these is a fence, behind the fence there are several buildings, white and silent. Tens of thousands of birds are in these buildings, most people perceive them only as cackling machines for the production of eggs.
As if birds could not be desperate, feel hope or desire. As if they couldn’t enjoy caress and closeness and happiness. As if only a human being had a meaning and everything else was just for humans need and consumption.
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Crushed and beaten lives. Dot. Dust, stink and feathers. Dot. Arrive, leave. Dot. Take someone with us, leave someone behind. Dot. Cry and bang my head on the steering wheel. Dot. To be happy for every animal we have stolen from the underworld. Dot. Don‘t stop breathing. Dot. Return. Dot.
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There are two rescue actions in this report. We took 7 hens in the first action and 17 hens in the second action to safety. These 24 birds live with kind people and are no longer just a commodity.
The egg industry is creative and adaptable to recieve the best profits. Well, what are other animals, plants, rocks, water, air and actually the whole world for, right? A life that doesn’t turn into profit is not worth living, is it? That is the meaning of everything as far as one can reach, right?
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This report contains two rescue actions. We took away 9 turkeys from people who made business of stealing, mutilating and destroying their lives. On the way to their new home I saw a young doe followed by another. I stopped the car, turned the engine off and watched them run across the field to the forest. I let tears and despair wet and wrinkle my eyes.
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I stop the car in the forest on the side of the road. Several people get out with the necessary equipment and get lost among the trees. Me and Petra are going to park the car. Later we meet with others near the object. When the patrols are on their spots we go to the large metal door. The silence and stink is everywhere.
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This report contains 3 rescue actions in which we liberated 67 animals. 26 animals on the first action, 23 on the second and on third wee took 18 of them. We did not ask the businessmen, politicians nor the consumers. We did not care about the public opinion. Why should we?
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Here I am again opening cages inside this madhouse for at least a thousand time. I pull chickens out and try to keep their wings close to their body. Some of them remain calm, some are terrified and I don’t blame them. Born in hatchery, called for mom and she wasn’t there. Just hands of a man that separated them to different boxes, to be killed or live in hell.
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We broke in a factory farm where rabbits are caged in dark place just to breed more and more bunnies until they reach the sufficient weight to be slaughtered. From that cage we took rabbit mom and 10 little white tufts with legs. I asked our rescuing partner, girl who calls herself “Bird” to write a few sentences about things she saw and how she experienced them. (MK)
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The driver stops the car on the edge of the forest, we get out and take our tools. He drives away we approach the object and try to hide in the shadow of the forest, where is silence. The closer we are to the factory farm, the worse the smell gets. The stink means that the buildings are full of animals. What a sad confirmation.
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