Posted on 09/21/2017 9:19:16 AM PDT by Gamecock
A billboard is set to go up to memorialize dozens of chickens injured or killed during a crash on Interstate 95 earlier this month.
People for Ethical Treatment of Animals announced through a news release that the billboard aims to encourage drivers to “think about the ill-fated animals on transport trucks.
The crash took place on Sept. 15 on northbound I-95 at mile marker 91 near Santee, according to Lance Corporal Judd Jones, of the S.C. Highway Patrol. Only one vehicle was involved and no humans were injured in the crash.
“This devastating crash left countless birds mangled and suffering,” said Tracy Reiman, the organization’s executive vice president. “PETA’s billboard will let travelers know that the best way to prevent such tragedies is to keep smart, sensitive chickens off the road in the first place by going vegan.”
The billboard will feature an image of a chicken with the words, “I’m me, not meat. See the individual. Go vegan,” according to the release.
Some say chickens are descended from reptilian dinosaurs.
Reptiles forced mammals to sleep in trees to avoid being eaten.
Turnabout is fair play.
I truly believe in humane treatment for all animals; I also truly believe chickens taste great. Just finished lovely scrambled eggs, farm-raised, free-range, more expensive eggs. Willing to pay because they taste better. I also buy grass-fed beef from local butcher. Outstanding flavorful meat, tender and fresh. I even met the rancher and his wife who bring it to town. And oh, the pork chops from hogs lovingly raised by a local rancher lady who also raises goats. Guess I’m lucky to live reasonably close to farms and ranches.
Summing up, PETA is crazy and I’m not. Neither are you.
I know exactly what you mean, so glad you have chicken pets. I helped whitewash a. henhouse for friends that raised chickens for eggs. Affection trained, the chickens would flutter into your arms to get petted.
They can be really sweet and I’m glad that you got to see this!
Perfect!
Hippie/Chicken Story
Some kind of skinny, dirty, Jesus-looking bum once scolded my cousin and me at Mardi Gras, 1977, over “eating one of God’s creatures”. We were sitting on a bench outside a Popeyes with boxes.
We looked at each other, then offered him a thigh. Nobody but Jane Lynch likes thighs. We could tell he really wanted it. I think he just walked away, but we were busy eating and didn’t have time for his happy crappy.
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