“You may say I’m a dreamer

But I’m not the only one

I hope someday you’ll join us

And the world will be as one”

– John Lennon

What was she dreaming of whilst she lay there unconscious, battered, crushed, bruised and bleeding. Was she dreaming of a freedom she never had? Was she dreaming a life without fear, or was she just dreaming about being able to leave the world that had shown her only brutality and pain in her short 18 months? We named her “Dreamer” because when we found her she was dreaming, when we found her we were dreaming of a better life for her and the thousands of hens who were screaming at us to help them in the crates behind hers.

There were more transport crates at the abattoir that night than we’d ever seen before. Thousand of commercial egg layers sat trapped in crates awaiting their slaughter. We pulled one of the crates open and found that the hens in it had been stuffed in it to capacity. Hens were stacked on top of each other. Hens were crushed. Hens had suffocated to death. Hens had died with their heads sticking out of the crates. We saw a hen who we thought was dead lying on the bottom of the crate. She had other hens standing on her because there was nowhere else to stand. She was battered and bruised. Her abdomen was bloody and extremely bruised, like she had been kicked or dropped. Being locked in a crate for over 24 hours would have also seen the other starving hens peck at her wounds, making things so much worse for Dreamer. Workers at farms are responsible for loading chickens on to transport trucks. This farm has workers whose hearts are like cement and have darkness in their eyes.

My friend pulled Dreamer out of the crate to check if she had left the world. She was barely clinging to life. There was only the slightest sign of life when her head moved ever so quietly. We decided to take her with us. If she died, at least she would die in peace away from the horror and the suffering that had been her entire life. Dreamer had come from a farm down Gippsland way in Victoria, Australia. The farm she came from produces cage, barn and free range eggs. By the look of the hens nails in these crates, we are sure Dreamer was from one of the cage egg sheds. This is the problem when you think you are purchasing eggs that are kinder (i.e. free range), they often come from farms who use all three systems to produce their eggs and you are essentially paying them to keep hens in cages and in barns without knowing it. You are also paying for hens to be sent to slaughter every 18 months. When hens are sent to slaughter, they are grabbed so roughly by workers that their bones often break and they are always bruised in this process. When hens are sent to slaughter they are often kept on the truck for at least 24 hours depending on which abattoir they are being sent to. No eggs are kind. Hens will tell you that no eggs are kind.

We bundled Dreamer in to the car. She lay dreaming of a new world, of a kind world that she never knew. We got her home and she received critical care for the next few hours. She even woke from her slumber for a short time to view the people who were trying to help her instead of seeing the usual people who had been using, abusing and killing her.

Dreamer’s injuries were indeed horrific. At the hands of humans, she had suffered so intensely.

At 8am the morning after rescue, despite the desperate efforts of the rescue team, Dreamer closed her eyes for the last time and slipped in to an eternal dream. She died just as the car pulled up to the vet surgery. She died with people who cared about her and she died somewhere that her body will never be eaten. Her life was no dream, but maybe her life will open the eyes of others who will share our dream of a better world for all animals.

You may say I’m a dreamer. But I’m not the only one……….

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