Jane H Wood, author of GoldenEars: The Whispering Mountain and GoldenEars: The Pale Skulls shares a short story which raises awareness of Compassion in World Farming:
It was another dark-time; for the lights that glared overhead had, at long last, been extinguished. Long hours of darkness lay ahead. She could hear bodies either side of her shift restlessly. The hours passed in a bored stupor, standing on the hard concrete floor, though she had managed to doze once or twice. They were blissful moments that had been all too fleeting. The ache returned in her feet bringing her fitfully awake. She desperately wanted to turn around to ease the throbbing in her legs and vanquish the ache tearing into her back muscles, but even that small movement was denied her. The moist atmosphere remained a constant where a fug of fresh excrement circulated on the air. She lifted her head, trying to see over the iron railing that surrounded her body. She released a low grunt, sensing a warm body a few inches away. The familiar despondency resurfaced and she lowered her head again. There was no way out, she was trapped, confined as though she had done a terrible wrong. Why was she being treated like this? She thought very hard, perhaps she had displeased the long-shadows that had hovered around her. A shiver rippled down her back, as she recalled the pain and discomfort that always accompanied the long-shadows arrival.
Her tongue slid over her rough teeth. The raw pain had subsided, though they still felt tender after she was so brutally handled by the long-shadows when the last light-time flooded from above. She had closed her eyes as the taste of metal rasped against her molars and dug into the soft flesh on the inside of her cheek. She had tried to move her head, to twist away and cry out for mercy, but it was useless. Her pleas were ignored, the long-shadows continued, deaf and blind to her pain. The blood had now stopped flowing, the cuts beginning to heal in her tattered mouth.
A loud clanking of something metallic stirred the air… then a hum of machinery whirled into action. Others like herself began to wake, the sounds escalating into a hubbub of chaotic noise. As though they had disturbed an invisible power, the light suddenly dazzled from overhead. The contraption in front of her rattled, then a liquid ooze flooded from the tip of the metal pipe, filling the trough at her feet. She watched it flow like she had so many times before; a measured quota of nourishment was allocated her. Instinct drove her to eat. It was expected of her, after all, she didn’t want to feel the hot spike of a metal pole jab at her flank. She had learnt her lesson: retaliation was futile.
Both of her ears had already been clipped when she was but a few weeks old. The notches denoted the litter size, and the ear tag piercing her right ear displayed her identification number. She had cried, but that didn’t matter. The long-shadows hadn’t finished and held her upside-down by her hind legs in preparation to dock her tail… leaving behind a painful and bleeding stump. Then she was cast away from her mother. That was the last time she ever saw her. It had been a bad time when the choking sadness had engulfed her.
Pain was her life; not a moment of kindness or consideration was shown her. She endured it, endlessly, and without thought or malice towards her tormentors.
Each light-time was the same, the incarceration absolute. Her mind had grown slow, but her senses had remained heightened to the hostility that was forever surrounding her.
Then a new occurrence began one unusual light-time. The long-shadows arrived, making much noise and fearfulness. She cowered in fright as many of her kin were herded past her narrow crate, their cloven hooves clattering on the concrete floor. Unseen machinery banged and whirled and a great squealing resounded in the air, only to fade.
It puzzled her. What was in the light beyond? She pressed her face against the bars trying to see further down the passageway that led into oblique darkness. It was impossible to get a clear view, her fat body prevented her from moving but an inch or two in either direction and pressed uncomfortably against the cold hard bars in protest.
Young voices roused her from her inertia. Sensing new neighbours sparked a slight interest and she snorted in response. She tried to manoeuvre herself so she could see their faces. The simple action brought her to a stop as her belly dragged on the ground bringing a new hurt to her swollen nipples, now sore and engorged from the repeated pregnancies she had been forced to endure. Thirst made her seek her drinking spout. She licked the end, but no water came forth. A mounting panic made her grasp the iron bar before her, grinding her teeth upon it. But the bars didn’t yield an inch, but then they never did. It was stiflingly hot in her confined space and she licked her dry mouth as a new panic rose inside her. The air was unmoving, the constant hum of machinery had ceased, and also the long-shadows that tormented them daily were absent. This light-time was different, she hadn’t experienced this before. No food or water came in its usual automated way.
Suddenly a great disturbance resounded from the dark passageway. Then the latch on her crate was lifted, and a gentle hand touched her rump. A soft voice coaxed her, and obediently she began the slow walk down the dark passageway with a group of other sows at her side. Together they ascended a ramp and entered a place strewn with fresh straw and a long trough filled with cool water. Her eyes watered in wonderment as she gazed around. Then the doors were gently closed behind them; unaware that very soon, they were all to begin a new life at the Farm Animal Sanctuary.
Supporter: ciwf.org.uk