Farm Trucks. Day 316.

The small town I live in is close to another small town called Wallace. The people are sweet, the feel is simple and safe, and there are farms everywhere in town and in the surrounding communities. They grow corn, soybeans, hemp, and farmers also raise pigs and chickens.

Almost every time I go into town, I see the big semi farm truck, the ones with the open, gated walls, the ones that carry pigs and chickens. We see full ones, and we see empty ones.

I really wish I could just look past them and not see what’s inside. I know people eat meat, and I don’t push my ways on them, but it makes me very sad to see them. I try so hard not to look at the animals’ faces and to not think about where they’re going. I also try to imagine they are at least treated with kindness and respect until their last minute.

I understand this is my issue and that it’s not within the social norm, and I’ve learned to live with it and learn how to go the other way when I see one of those giant metal cage trucks. I will say, though, that if one of those chickens, or even pigs falls off the truck, it’ll come home with me to live, and I will name her Suerte.

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