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necessaryveganism:

Their senses are in overload. They smell and taste the feces, blood and steam in the air. They can hear so much foreign noise: the clunking of mechanical chains, pneumatic control valves, shouting of the workers inside, industrial white noise. One-way gates prevent the animals from backing away in fear. Many get caught as they sprint forward to remain close to a friend for comfort.

Josh says one of the saddest moments he witnessed was an ex-dairy cow with protruding hips and large pink X spray painted on her back. She moved along the kill line without coercion—she knew the routine of being shuffled around from her years spent trudging back and forth from a milking parlour. Exhausted and depleted, she collapsed onto the cold concrete floor of the slaughterhouse. Instead of euthanizing her, on-site vets made the decision to leave her overnight and kill her for meat first thing in the morning, when the line could be slowed. She was pregnant when she was killed, her baby cut from her stomach.

At first, Josh didn’t want to talk about his years spent in the slaughterhouse. He felt ashamed by his own complicity in the killing industry, but he’d also absorbed through experience another uncomfortable reality: society shames those who do the dirty work of killing for us. What kind of person could work in a slaughterhouse, we wonder, while simultaneously employing them to be there.