At The Show

Each year I visit several agricultural shows, the big city ones and the country ones. No matter how big or how small, the one thing they all have is animals. The one thing they all share is the proud displays of the animals that are used for human food.

Checking me out through the bars.

  I take photos of the trapped, caged chickens. I take photos of the sheep stuck in tiny pens. I take photos of the cows given prizes for how good their rump will taste. I take photos of the terrified baby animals in the animal nursey who have no mother to hide behind.

The most disturbing part of my show visit is always the animal nursery. In the animal nursery, young animals are let loose in an indoor shed with the public. People are allowed to touch, hug and poke and prod animals who have no place to hide or escape. Ewes give birth to their lambs in full view of the public and newly hatched chicks and ducklings are handled by everyone and anyone. I always hear alot of “oohs” and “aahs” regarding the baby animals, but I never hear anyone question why the baby animals aren’t with their mothers. Bobby calves walk around aimlessly trying to suckle on people’s pants and bags, hoping their mother might be someone, somewhere. I fail to see how this complete dominantion and control over these poor farm animals can teach children respect for animals.

The turkey in the image above was in this cage pacing up and down and calling out in distress. He was an exhibit at the Royal Melbourne Show. He did this all day. He was so stressed out.I sat with him for thirty minutes the first time and listened as every man over the age of twenty made a comment about him being dinner. “Yum. Dinner” was the most popular comment made.I went back later and sat with him again while he paced and cried out, and still, every man said “Yum. Dinner”.Imagine being so hard of heart and disconnected to a living being that you could make fun of such a distressed, frightened animal. These are the types of people who crush my hope for animals (and the world) into tiny little pieces.

I watched as the hen in the photo above, ran around the Royal Melbourne Show Animal Nursery looking for somewhere to hide. She tried to dodge the children, but she couldn’t. She was picked up, dropped, chased and screamed at. She was terrified. She was so desperate to find somewhere up high for safety.I grabbed her and walked through the screaming hordes of families until I found the fence that all the other hens were hiding behind and well, didn’t they look shocking. About 30 girls who all looked so sick. I know chickens and I know when they are sick and half of those girls won’t make it through the show because of shock, being dropped (causing broken bones or broken eggs inside them) or because of lack of water. That’s right, they couldn’t reach the water in the water trough. I demanded they be given water and was greeted with a lot of blank stares. Those poor girls. I wish I could’ve taken them all with me.

As I stood there and watched these beautiful motherless ducklings in the image above, hatched just for the royal melbourne show, a mother and her 4 year old daughter came and stood beside me. The daughter looked up at her mother with a concerned look on her face and said “But where is the mumma duck?” and the mother lied back “Oh, she is just sleeping out the back”.Imagine if you could be honest with children from the get go about what we do to animals, how we breed them to eat and abuse them in every way possible. We could actually get some more amazing people in the world then. Some people who believe in standing up for others and changing things. Some people who want to be more than apathetic drones. Imagine.

The signs all over the “Paddock To Plate” shed at the Royal Melbourne Show were all about pointing out the uses of poultry….” They can be used as eggs and meat blah blah blah”. The signs didn’t actually stop to tell people that these birds are more than just meat and egg machines. The signs didn’t say how smart they are, how they form such close bonds with each other and their caretakers, how each one does actually have a unique personality and how each one desperately wants to live.

Was this billboard supposed to make me feel proud? All I could think of was the million of individual, young hens used and abused for their eggs daily. The ones in the cages, the ones in the barns, the ones who are free range, the ones who are ALL slaughtered at 18 months old who are seen as nothing but an egg. Nothing but a lousy dollar sign. Yeah, animal cruelty is a wonderful thing to be proud of.

The following slideshow is the series that is a work in progress, entitled “At The Show”

Please don’t use my images without permission. All images are Copyright Tamara Kenneally