Peaceful Prairie Restoration of the "Free-Range" Hens

by Stephanie Ernst

categories: Animal Profiles, CageFree and FreeRange, Dairy and Eggs, Farm Animals, Investigations and Rescues, Sanctuaries

Published November 03, 2008 @ 06:37AM PT

For those of us who adore it--the intimate, moving stories and stunning insights into individual animals' personalities that compose it--the Peaceful Prairie Sanctuary blog does not get updated often enough. But of course, the Peaceful Prairie people are busy folks, dedicated to caring for 300 rescued farm animals and educating the public about those animals and about compassionate, vegan living. Those of you who weren't around for this blog's launch or who haven't had time to page through the early posts may not have seen the profile of Peaceful Prairie that I posted in early October. Please do yourself a favor and read it now--Nonprofit Profile: Peaceful Prairie Sanctuary--not so much because of my writing but because of blog author Joanna Lucas's writing, extracts of which are featured there (along with a beautiful photo of a rescued hen).

And then read Joanna's latest heart-wrenching and heartwarming post, "Restoration," in which she updates us on the progress of the 100 traumatized "free-range" hens who arrived at Peaceful Prairie a year ago. It is a long post, but it is absolutely worth the time it will take you to read it. Please, for yourself as well as for the chickens, read their story. Meet, specifically, Blaze, who is bold, brave, and curious and ready to take on the world, despite limitations and past traumas; Edith and Pillar, who are more skittish but who together find their joy in brief moments and small comforts, intentionally created through what is obvious intelligent thought; and Dora, who still mostly hides away from the world, perhaps reliving, quietly, daily, the hell from which she came. You will be astonished by their unique personalities, by the unmistakable expressions of their inner experiences and thoughts--yes, thoughts--by the clear expression of their interests, their turmoil, their joys, their fears, and more. Although an extract follows (after the jump), it does not do the post in its entirety justice; you really must read the whole story--the whole collection of stories about each individual bird. What follows is part of Dora's story:

In the months following her rescue, she coped by hiding in the most unlikely places, in the most unsheltering shelters, in small nooks that barely covered her face while leaving the rest of her exposed, and she used to peck at phantom targets for hours, as if the repetition of behavior could obscure the happening world around her and reduce it to one controllable action. She rarely came out of the barn then and she still seldom comes out today.

Open spaces still frighten her and, to this day, she remains shy, melancholy and reclusive, attached to her solitary spots from where she does not watch and observe the goings on, the way Edith and Pillar avidly do, she just avoids the goings on altogether. . . .

Once in a great while, if you wait around long enough and sit quietly enough, she may come to you. She won't exactly walk up to you. She'll sidle up to you obliquely, crossing the open space that separates you in small hurried scurries, running from hiding place to hiding place, from the nearest straw bale to the nearest box, to the water dish, to the ladder, to the wheelbarrow -- as if dodging sniper fire -- until she finally gets near the spot where you sit. There, she'll stop at a short distance, not making eye contact like the others, not even looking in your direction. Just standing there, waiting, swaying, listening as though for a signal from within.

Then, with a swift, gentle thrust, she'll ease her lowered head under your arm, keeping her body as far away from you as possible, safely out of your reach (by her calculations) but offering you her neck, her trust, her jugular, nestling her head under your arm as though under her own wing. . . .

Please, read on: Restoration.