BLOG – Page 32 – Tamara Kenneally Photography

Mogwai

In May 2013, I visited a broiler chicken shed in Victoria. Broiler chickens are raised for meat and are killed at 5-7 weeks old. When I walked into this particular shed I was greeted with the usual sea of white broiler chickens. Their huge bodies at only a few weeks old all crammed in together with their tiny faces holding their big eyes that looked at me in fear. In amongst those thousands and thousands of white faces was a little black chicken. Broiler chickens are meant to be white. Selective breeding over decades has seen them become a dominantly white chicken. This black chicken was one out of the box, a freak, like a different breed. I walked away without rescuing this little chicken, but thought of him for the next few weeks.

*Black little Mogwai in the broiler chicken farm.*

When he was finally rescued, he was taken out of that shed with two friends who were equally strange in broiler chicken terms. They were both grey chickens. All three fat, sweet little babies came to live with me. I named the black chicken “Mogwai”, and the two grey chickens “Colonel Eagle” and “Hedwig”. The three were the best of friends, never going anywhere without each other. As they grew, I noticed that both Mogwai and Eagle were roosters and huge magnificent roosters they turned out to be.

Mogwai and Eagle were the best of friends, they took comfort and protection in each other and chatted to each other all day long. The morning that we found Eagle dead from heart related issues was indeed a sad one for us, but a it was a tragedy for Mogwai. Mogwai didn’t really want to be friends with the other chickens. Hedwig would visit him every now and again, but as Mogwai moved into teenagehood he became very aggressive towards the hens. Hens would run into his chicken coop and Mogwai would run out from a nesting box to grab them. This is how he got the nickname “Monster Mogwai”. He wasn’t inherently mean, he was just a young rooster trying to find his place and trying to figure out how to be a rooster. Before this beautiful boy could grow into the amazing rooster he was meant to be, he died. He died from what all broiler chickens die from. They always die from issues directly related to the sizes of their bodies. Mogwai’s heart would have given out.

At only 7-8 months old, he left this world, but at least he left the world knowing what the sky looked like, knowing how the dirt felt through his feathers and at least his body wasn’t eaten by someone who didn’t care about him in the slightest.

Fly free beautiful big boy.

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

Bed And Broccoli

Bed and Broccoli is a very special B and B just outside of Shepparton in Victoria. It’s an all vegan bed and breakfast and owner, Nikki, can turn anything into an amazing vegan meal! The B and B itself is a converted dairy which is so lovely and comfortable and each morning you wake up to the sounds of their many rescued animals and an abundance of wild birds.

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Last week my sister and I stayed at Bed and Broccoli for a night. It was beautiful. We had a lunch of vegan eggs benedict (yes you heard that right!), afternoon nibbles of fruit and a chocolate fondue fountain, jalepeno jam (my fave omg!), vegan cheesy spread and crackers and wine and drinks and lots and lots of talking. For dinner we had lovely pizza by the dam. The next day we had beautiful raisin bread in the morning and this chorizo rice dish for lunch that was SO YUM. AND we both left with the most delicious piece of chocolate cake ever ( I need more of that!). I took about a billion photos of the animal residents. It’s a beautiful place where you will get looked after AND you can cuddle a chicken……secretly that was my favourite part. Book yourself a stay now!! (and bring me some chocolate cake back please! )

www.bedandbroccoli.com.au

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

Life For Sale (At The Saleyards)

The animal livestock saleyard. A place where farmers go to scope out the competition, socalise with their peers and sell their animals for the best price they can get.

It’s also a place where farm animals suffer.

Farm animals are trucked to saleyards under stress. Yarded with unfamiliar animals. Locked in pens with no shade for up to 24 hours, sometimes more. The animals are stressed by loud noises, crowds, rough handling and dogs. They have no water and no food. Legislation states that farm animals in saleyards only need to be provided with water after 12 hours of being there.

Whilst walking through a large sale of sheep lately on a 30 degree day, I saw each of them. Each individual sheep who looked at me was someone different, just like my sheep at home. They were all languishing in the heat, panting and desperate for shade and water. To these farmers, they were only money. Their lives were for sale. Most were trucked off for slaughter and some may have been purchased as breeding stock for wool and/or meat, but there was no future for any of these sheep.

What really struck me was how they were all treated the same. How no one knew them or wanted to know who they actually were. Like they were nothing.

Hot, crowded, terrified and confused. These animals have no choice.

At the back of some grubby factories, this little poultry auction happens weekly. Sick, emaciated ducks, chickens. turkeys and birds are crammed in cages without food and water and then each one is picked up and auctioned off for a few dollars at a time.

This duck was sold for four dollars. After being picked up by his wings, he was shoved in a boot, taken to a backyard and slaughtered. He was terrified. They were all terrified.

Treated like less than rubbish.

Life for sale.

This is a work in progress. I plan to document saleyards all over the state to complete this series.

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

Anthropomorphism

I get accused of anthropomorphism all the time. I get told that I put human attributes on animal’s feeling and emotions.

Strangely enough, the people who accuse me of this, never spend any time with animals or they profit from the farming of animals. I have spent enough time with animals of many species to know that they form incredible friendships and bonds. They grieve terribly when they lose a friend and they communicate with each other.

Trying to put animals feelings and emotions in a box seperate to our own really makes it easier for humans to use and abuse them.

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

A Visit To Hanna’s

In August 2013, two little piglets I know were going on a trip to their new home, a new home with a lovely person named Hanna. They were rescued from a factory farm in July and needed a new home desperately. Hanna put her hand up and off we went to rehome Derick and Daisy. Hanna’s place is filled with animals from horses named “Dior” to furless cats and a rescued Boxer dog named “Lucy”. I stayed a few hours and got some images of them for her.

These are the photos of her animal family below!

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