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A Bitter Irony

Updated: Mar 19, 2019



Today Earthling Ed shared a wonderfully heartwarming story on FB. In brief, it concerns free-range hens saved from being gassed to death because they could no longer produce enough eggs for their lives to be considered economically viable. The picture above shows the lucky chickens on their way to safety. I would have enjoyed this story a lot, but for the fact that immediately below it on my feed was the following:

Suggestions of what to do with dead chickens? I have 18 to cull but don’t know how to dispose of them— looking for recommendations. The irony of the juxtapositioning of the posting was astounding. The suggestions being offered (in great number) included giving them away for use as live bait on traplines. I can’t begin to tell you the curses that erupted from my mouth when I read that one. My blood boiled, so I decided to research the despicable witch who was seeking guidance. I was aghast that her home page featured the following words as her background wallpaper. Be a reflection of what you’d like to receive. If you want love, give love. If you want truth, be truthful. If you want respect, give respect. What you give out will return to you. My jaw dropped. The extent of the cognitive dissonance this person must live with is incredible. The lack of ability to form even the most basic of connections is staggering. The corruption of the soul blows my mind. I truly, truly hope that what she is giving out is returned to her. If she's to learn anything in this life, I think it needs to be.

NB. If you’re wondering why such a hideous posting should appear on my feed, it’s because I monitor several farming FB pages. Although they appall me every single day, they have been the source of several of our rescues, where I have been able to persuade the farmers to send their cast-off animals to a peaceful retirement.

If you’re wondering why I didn’t try to do the same for these chickens, well frankly, it torments me. But we’re not set up for them and we’re too close to winter to build a hen house. The heart is willing, but sometimes I need to remind myself that we can't save them all. 

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