Through her farm animal sanctuary efforts, Lorri has directly saved thousands of animals from the cruelties of factory farms, stockyards and slaughterhouses, and brought national attention to the plight of animals used for "food production."
In 1986 I discovered a living sheep on a stockyard “dead pile” and her rescue led me to establish the first shelter in the country for farmed animals, as co-founder of Farm Sanctuary. The sheep, who was named Hilda, was my first teacher. She was the one who set me on a path to rescue thousands of other suffering farmed animals and establish the farmed animal sanctuary movement.
Hilda enjoyed 12 blissful years at Farm Sanctuary, and during our years together, she continued to show me how much can be accomplished when people care enough to be a vital participant in programs and campaigns to stop farmed animal suffering. In 1986, very few organizations were advocating for farmed animal protection, most people thought the word “vegan” was a character from Star Trek, and there were no shelters in the country devoted to farmed animals.
Today, along with Animal Acres there are now over 30 farmed animal sanctuaries throughout the country.
In our first year of operation in 2005, I saw how much an urban farmed animal sanctuary can do – and how much people wanted to have farmed animal sanctuaries in their cities. A dedicated team of over 200 people came out to help us build the sanctuary. We saved over 200 animals from slaughter, welcomed thousands of sanctuary visitors, and reached millions of people with news coverage of our efforts in the Los Angeles Times, the Daily News and other major media.
Dozens of Hollywood’s famous friends of farmed animals joined Animal Acres to lend their voices and support.
Although I have been involved in the farmed animal sanctuary movement since 1986, the success of Animal Acres was a reminder to me of the crucial role played by farmed animal sanctuaries – both for animal advocates and the general public.
In our own animal protection movement, farmed animal sanctuaries are helping teach animal advocates that cows, pigs, and chickens need our help, too – and the new and growing interest in farmed animal protection issues continues to prompt campaigns to ban cruel factory farming and marketing practices.
Humane enforcement agencies are more willing to intervene to stop farmed animal cruelty if there is a shelter facility in the area for farmed animals. Shortly after Animal Acres opened, a California humane agency was able to conduct the first U.S. raid on a slaughterhouse for cruelty to animals, and subsequently confiscated dozens of severely neglected animals, who were then brought to Animal Acres for rehabilitation and refuge.
For people who come into contact with farmed animals only at breakfast, lunch, or dinner, farmed animal sanctuaries provide a positive way for the public to learn that farmed animals are friends, not food. Sanctuary visitors interact with the “animal ambassadors” while being educated on the harsh truth of how farmed animals are treated to produce meat, milk, and eggs.
It’s just a little easier for people to hear about the cruelties of dairy production when they are getting a big cow lick. Even the youngest sanctuary visitor “gets it” after giving a pig a belly rub and sampling a veggie hotdog. Farmed animal sanctuaries make it fun – and profound.
As a founder of Farm Sanctuary, and now Animal Acres, I have personally seen thousands of people “touched” by a farmed animal, and then make the decision to save ALL farmed animals by going vegetarian or vegan.
More than anyone, those of us involved in direct rescue efforts for farmed animals recognize the only way to “be the change” is to use the sanctuary to open peoples’ hearts and minds to the plight of farmed animals.
Every year, over ten billion animals are raised, transported, and slaughtered under the most inhumane and cruel conditions possible. During my own investigations of the meat, dairy, and egg industries, I have witnessed more suffering than I could have imagined in my worst nightmare.
At hatcheries, I have seen tiny day-old chicks thrown alive into trash dumpsters because they were male and could not be used for egg production.
I have given water to thirsty “downed” cows who were left suffering for hours, in parking lots, with temperatures over 100 degrees.
I have looked into the hopeless eyes of calves chained to veal crates, unable to walk or even turn around.
I’ve watched in horror as pigs with broken legs dragged themselves to the killing floor, as they were kicked and shocked by slaughterhouse workers.
People often ask me what is the hardest part of doing farmed animal rescue and sanctuary work. Witnessing animal cruelty is very difficult, but leaving suffering animals behind is devastating. Over the years, I have had to make hundreds of “Sophie’s Choices” -- choosing which ones to save, and which ones to leave behind. I remember the hardest rescue I ever worked on like it happened only yesterday – the Buckeye Egg Farm Rescue.
The Buckeye Egg Farm in Ohio is a typical egg production factory farm. To produce eggs, four to five hens are crammed into a bare wire cage about the size of a folded newspaper. The confinement is so severe, the hens cannot walk, stretch their wings, or even lie down comfortably. The Buckeye Egg Farm was one of the largest egg production facilities in the country, housing 14 million hens in large warehouses which held 80-100,000 birds per building. Tornadoes struck the Buckeye Egg Farm facility, and overnight, over one million birds became trapped in demolished buildings.
There was no way to prepare myself for the devastation, and the suffering. The warehouses which housed the birds had been severely damaged, and most of the buildings were missing sides,
For several days, we tried to rescue as many hens as we could, while urging the owners of the facility to remove hens from cages as quickly as possible and humanely euthanize the ones that could not be taken to sanctuaries. On my last trip to the Buckeye Egg Farm, the birds had been in the cages without food or water for twelve days. I expected to see birds weak and near death--what I saw instead were birds who were very much alive and moving frantically in their cages.
The Buckeye Egg Farm would not allow animal groups to help release birds from cages, claiming it was “too dangerous” to allow non-employees to enter demolished areas. They agreed to let us have as many hens as we could take, but we had to agree to this stipulation. Still, there were times I had to make a mad dash to a cage of hens. I approached one cage that was smashed in half and reached down to pick up a bird who was caught in the wire of a mangled cage. I tucked the hen safely into my shirt, and then I tried to pry open the cage bars to rescue another hen who had her wing caught in the wire – but I was forced to leave the area before I could get her. The look on her face will never leave me. I also had to break the rules when I saw birds stuck in the manure slurry pits that accumulated under the cages. The live birds were slowly sinking into the wet manure. I got three birds out of the pit before I was stopped.
After a great deal of pressure, the Buckeye Egg Farm agreed to remove trapped birds and euthanize them. The "bird removal" crew consisted of six to eight workers to remove almost 100,000 birds from piles of debris and mangled cages. It was agonizingly slow, and cruel. The workers grabbed the birds by the legs and threw them into a tractor loading bucket. The tractor then drove to a large trailer, and dumped the live birds into it. The birds fell, flapping their wings and screaming, onto the other birds in the trailer, who lay dead, or dying. A tarp was then pulled over the trailer, and CO2 gas was pumped into it for 5 minutes. When the tarp was pulled back, many of the birds lay gasping until the next loader full of birds was dumped on top of them.
We documented all of this cruelty and death. The endless rows of trapped birds. The animals stuck in quick-sand like manure pits. The birds being thrown into gas chambers and left suffocating, gasping for breath. We tried to convince authorities to prosecute the facility for animal cruelty, but we were unsuccessful. It was considered a “natural disaster”, though it was clear the suffering was caused by the “unnatural” confinement of millions of animals. In the end, there was nothing I could do but save as many as possible. On the last day we were allowed in, I drove off with 500 hens. I didn't glance back as we pulled away...I couldn't.
It is hard to witness animal cruelty and leave suffering animals behind – and when I am struggling to cope with my anger and grief, I try to remember another animal teacher who crossed my path, a hen named Henny.
When I was directing Farm Sanctuary’s shelters, I received a call from the ASPCA that a chicken needed a home–a chicken that someone had managed to take from a factory farm, and ended up on a New York City bus. Fortunately, the kind driver knew this was a chicken in trouble, and drove her to the ASPCA. At the time, our New York shelter was completely full because of the Buckeye Egg Farm rescue. We didn’t have any rehabilitation pens open at our shelter, but after hearing about her heroic escape, I just couldn’t say no. So, until she was healthy enough to be with the other shelter chickens, “Henny” moved in with us.
At the time, my family consisted of four dogs, three cats, two humans (and now one chicken), and we were all residing in a small, one bedroom cabin. I didn’t want Henny to be locked alone into the bathroom, so I cautiously let her into the main room, keeping a particularly watchful eye on the dogs. I was concerned that Henny would be intimated and not “fit in”, but I didn’t have to worry for long -- at least about the chicken.
The dogs were the first to learn that Henny would rule the roost. The minute my largest dog KJ stuck her nose into her, Henny gave KJ a peck on the nose—clearly there was going to be no dog “nosing” in this household. This chicken had attitude–she was from New York City alright.
Later that night, after everyone seemed to settle in and things were starting to get peaceful, I was relaxing on the couch with Pierre (cat) in my lap. Henny walked over to the couch, surveyed the situation, and then jumped on to my lap–which of course meant, she also jumped on to the cat. Pierre leaped into the air hissing and screaming and Henny didn’t ruffle a feather. She just calmly settled into my lap, ignoring the glaring cat, and started cooing.
The first night, I put her into a bedded carrier so she (and the rest of us) could sleep soundly throughout the night. She didn’t seem to like this idea, and I felt a little guilty as her eyes followed me into the bedroom. That night, she must have worked her way into my dreams, because I woke up knowing I couldn’t put her in the carrier again.
By now, everyone had accepted Henny into the household, so it seemed safe enough to just let her find her own sleeping spot in the house. The big dogs grabbed the couch, the cats and small dogs jumped on our bed, and we all crawled under the covers. Within seconds, I heard the tiny “click-click-click” of Henny’s feet, and they were coming closer and closer. I peered over the side of the bed, and there was Henny, looking up. I’d seen this look before – Henny was going to jump on to the bed. I went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel for the bed, and Henny jumped up and slept with us until dawn. (In case you’re wondering, Henny was “housebroken” and never had an “incident” on the bed or furniture.)
At night when Henny and I cuddled together, I was amazed by her trusting and loving nature. She was after all, a hen who had lived her entire life under cruel factory farm conditions. She had suffered “debeaking” a painful mutilation that involves cutting off the tip of hens’ beaks to reduce pecking injuries because the birds are so severely overcrowded. Then, for months, she endured intensive confinement in a bare wire cage with several other hens–a cage so small that she could not even stretch her wings. Finally, when she was no longer “productive” she was literally torn from her cage and thrown into a transportation truck headed for slaughter. Bruised, battered and worn-out laying hens are ground up and used for pot pies and baby food.
In the few weeks she stayed with us, I discovered that Henny was curious and intelligent (she learned in one night to stay on the towel in her corner of the bed). Henny was fearless and self-assured (I learned this when I saw her “take on” a ninety pound growling dog because SHE wanted the chew toy). Henny was friendly (she greeted me at the door each day after work and then followed me around like a puppy dog). And, Henny loved to be loved (and gave me enormous amounts of love in return.)
Henny had never known a kind touch from a human. Humans had only inflicted fear, pain and endless days of torment. Yet, she had chosen to bring us into her family – a family filled with generosity, forgiveness, and hope. It was a sad day when Henny was ready to be with her own people (well, maybe not so sad for my companion dogs and cats), but I was grateful for the time I had with this remarkable teacher, who reminded me of all that one chicken, or person, can be.
My biggest mission in life is to teach people that farmed animals are animals. Animals who feel pain or comfort, or joy or sorrow, just like a dog or cat. Farmed animal sanctuaries provide the opportunity for people to learn, and love.
At times, working on behalf of ten billion suffering animals is heartbreaking, and daunting. But Hilda, Henny, and the other farmed animals who have touched my life, have given me hope – because each and every person can do something to stop the suffering now, simply by choosing what, or whom, to eat.
When people learn about the suffering these farmed animals must endure, they are shocked and appalled, and they will go vegetarian, or vote to stop an abusive farming practice. In addition to the creation of dozens of new farmed animal sanctuaries, the past ten years has ushered in laws and initiatives banning cruel animal agriculture practices, along with the introduction of vegetarian and vegan food options at almost every major supermarket and restaurant throughout the country.
For the first time in history, people are seeing cows, pigs, and chickens as living, feeling animals, and it is changing the way society views and treats farmed animals. Farmed animals themselves finally have a voice. They can be their own advocates – and perhaps that is why the farmed animal sanctuary movement is so successful.
I urge everyone to get up “close and personal” with farmed animals. You don’t need to open and run a farmed animal sanctuary to help spread the word that farmed animals have feelings too. But I do believe, that the farmed animals themselves are the best advocates, and it takes you and I to tell their stories.
Visit and volunteer at farmed animal sanctuaries as often as possible – if you don’t live near one, do an internship at one (Animal Acres offers one month live-in internships, as do other sanctuaries.) If you let yourself be touched, if you open yourself to farmed animals voices, you will be inspired – and the messages you learn and share on blogs, facebook, myspace, twitter, and all those wonderful communication mechanisms now available, can be brought to millions.
It took Jane Goodall to show the world that chimpanzees were more like humans than other animals, that chimpanzees had complex emotions and lives, not unlike our own. We need Jane Goodalls for cows, pigs, and chickens, too, and you can be that person. We need everyone who cares about farmed animals to do everything they can to show the world that farmed animals are animals too, that there is a face on their plate.
If farmed animals can be the teachers, there might be hope for the human race yet.
Join the farmed animal sanctuary movement – and help us save lives.
Become a living sanctuary for others.
Go vegan.
