<$BlogRSDUrl$> The Cyberactivist

Behind the scenes of the fight for the protection of animals and workers and the preservation of the environment - my experiences as a Tyson slaughterhouse hanger/killer turned activist. Exposing the evils of factory farming, by Virgil Butler. If you have arrived here looking for the Tyson stories, view the early archives. Some of them are now featured on the sidebar for easy searching.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

My Dream 

This was actually contributed by Gary over at Animal Writings, as he wanted to be a part of this, but didn't find out about it until too late. He has a wonderfully-written blog that I follow and read consistently every week. It's that good. If you have never been there, check it out.

Anyway, here is a contribution he wanted to make to the 'thon:

I have this dream that all the animals stuck in our horrible food system, with no way out, could have a one-day holiday. That's all. One day where the chickens could forage in the grass, and roost in a tall tree branch at night. The hens would have comfortable nests and they could lay their eggs in privacy. The roosters would assume their protector roles, crowing to greet the dawn and keeping the flock safe. The chains would be removed from the veal calves, and they would walk - or hobble - to their mothers. The milk cows would accompany their calves to a green pasture where they would eat and rest. Mother would bathe her son. Someone would go around and unlock the pigs’ cages. For the first time in their lives, they could feel the earth - they could walk. They'd cover themselves with mud, to cool off. Then they'd take the most wonderful naps in beds of straw. Upon waking, they'd go outside again and have fruits and melons and squash and other vegetables to eat.

The foxes in the fur-farm cages would not believe it when the cage door opened. First they'd take a few cautious steps, on legs that hadn't been used in months. But that wouldn't last long. They'd break into a run. They'd play chase games, as young foxes do. For one day, they'd stand proud. The minks would scurry to the river to see what water felt like. The rabbits - oh my, would they hop. They'd dig in the grass and eat lush greens. They'd run through hollow logs and jump and twirl in the air. When they got tired, they'd flop on the ground to rest, and then do it again.

The ducks would finally get to swim. And fly. Like airplanes taking off and landing, their strong wings would lift them in the air and guide them back onto the water.

It would be a glorious day.
Wouldn't it, though, Gary? And wouldn't it be even better yet if they never had to go back into those filthy horrible places after only that one day...
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