Elliot

In April 2013, we walked into one of the most disgusting farms we’d ever been too. Dead hens in most cages. Bald, terrified hens looking out at us with sad, scared, pleading and angry eyes. Dust from the bones of the dead in piles on the floor. Amongst these 80,000 girls in this one shed was Elliot. She was lifted out of that cage and taken away from that place of misery and death.

With three other hens who we rescued that night, I put her into her new straw bed at my home. The next morning I watched as she looked to the sky for the first time and felt the dirt under her feet. The first time battery hens get a chance to eat grass, their little eyes light up like the sun. Elliot was so excited by grass and she started talking about it and from then on she never stopped talking. We named her “Elliot Reid” after a character in the tv show, “Scrubs” because she talked so much and was just a little bit crazy.

Elliot was incredibly unwell.

Elliot had absolutely no feathers and had the look of a sick chicken about her. She slept far too often and we soon realised that her health problems were all egg related. Elliot was laying eggs without shells and ended up developing egg yolk peritonitis. This is a serious infection where the egg yolks and whites are trapped in the hens body and infects them until they die. In farms, hens with egg yolk peritonitis are just left to die. This is how much the farmers care for these girls. They are only seen as money and their suffering does not mean a thing to them.  Elliot was taken to vet(s) and was treated for her infection. She had a hormone chip inserted  into her neck which saved her life and stopped her laying eggs. Once Elliot’s body was free from producing an egg a day, she flourished into the most beautiful, plump fluffy hen in the world. Laying one egg per day strips hens of vital vitamins and minerals they need to stay healthy. When they don’t produce eggs anymore, all those vitamins and minerals get to stay in their bodies and keep them healthy.

Elliot’s condition a week out of the farm.

Elliot’s nicknames were “Lady Kluck” and “The Fat One”, both these names directly related to a character in Disney’s version of “Robin Hood”. Madame Cluck is a chubby chicken character who is feisty and chatty and runs like a rugby player, just like our Elliot was. Elliot was a big talker and loved her fruit. She talked back to you all the time. Always complaining and she always had something to say. Elliot was like an elderly lady who was outraged at everything and wanted to constantly write to the council to complain.

Elliot knew her name. She often replied to the call of her name in outrage, she didn’t  like being told what to do. She replied in a tone that said “Yes, I am Elliot. What is it you want? I am outraged you are calling me when I am so very busy. Outraged!”. This girl was a crack up!

And to think she was just another number, just another egg machine.

She was so, so much more than that.

We lost the hilarious and beautiful Elliot on the morning of January 6, 2016. Here is the  tribute I wrote for her:

Today I am grateful. I am grateful that I knew this lady for 2 years and 9 months. I am grateful we took her out of that cage. I am grateful I got to know her odd ways and quirky character. I am so grateful I learnt how she loved exotic fruits and chillies. I am very grateful that I heard her voice calling back in outrage every time I called her name. I am so grateful I have the memory of her big boned, beautiful body running to me whenever she thought I had something delicious.
I put Elliot to bed last night with the knowledge that she wasn’t feeling well. She took ill at about 7pm. I gave her pain relief, antibiotics and a fluid injection to help her night be more comfortable. She refused to sleep in the bed inside and wanted to be with her family. I found her dead this morning in her bed. She chose her time and she chose to leave with her family. What more could I ask for these beautiful girls who are so mistreated in this world. I wish with all my heart these hens could live longer, it seems so criminal that their bodies just cannot go on for much longer than a few years after rescue.
I love these chickens and I constantly lose these chickens. Why do I continue to do it? I don’t know sometimes, but that little permanent chip in my heart every time I lose a girl is worth the years of joy they brought to my life and the years of freedom they had.

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