Cruelty Witness: Number 294 (Emily)

Photo by Kat Jayne from Pexels

by Twyla Francois

June 1st was named World Milk Day - yet another PR event for an industry that exploits and enslaves animals.

Emily at Winnipeg Livestock Auction

I've seen this photo I took of a cull dairy cow I named Emily shared online often, but her full story (at least as much as we know of it) is rarely provided. I want to try to remedy that and make sure her story - rather than just the visual representation of her suffering - is told.

I found Emily (known previously only as number 294) at Winnipeg Livestock Auction in a back pen. Her udder was enormous and almost touched the ground. She appeared to be in a great deal of pain. When I pointed out her condition to a worker, I was told she would be going direct to slaughter by day's end (this is what is considered the 'gold standard' for cows in her condition - to be spared a longer transport and possible stop at another auction). This was a lie. After seeing a number of other animals in terrible condition, I asked to see the auction veterinarian, and was told he was "at the track" (Assiniboia Downs horse race track).

I returned to the auction the next morning to check to see if the worker had told me the truth. He hadn't. I asked another worker if she would be going through the ring so I could buy her and have a veterinarian come to euthanize her. He responded: "She'll be going to heaven very soon". I took this to mean that she had already been put through the sales ring and bought by a slaughterhouse. At this point, I called the authorities (provincial veterinarian's office), hoping that once they saw the condition this poor cow was in, they would treat her or euthanize her (in my experience, euthanasia is generally the 'best' outcome as animals are almost never seized by authorities, and even if they are, they are simply put back through the system. I later learned that even if the authorities had seized Emily, she would've been brought to the very auction she was already in). I was told that a veterinarian would come that afternoon to examine Emily.

I returned to the auction for the 3rd day and was dismayed to see all of the other animals I'd called about still there. While I was looking for Emily, a worker was running a group of about 30 cows down the aisle into a large pen. Emily was among them. The worker told me they had just been put through the ring and sold. I expressed concern about Emily, that she must be in pain and was surprised the auction would accept her in this condition. He became angry and said: "She just got like that all of a sudden." I responded that it takes time to get to this condition, that the farmer must've seen it happening. He responded "So they get mastitis! There's nothing you can do about it!"

The vet diagnosed her with torn ligaments that held her udder in place and lameness

I called the provincial veterinarian again. He said they had been on-site the day before and (like me) were assured that Emily would be sent directly to slaughter by day's end. During his examination of her, the vet diagnosed her with torn ligaments that held her udder in place and lameness. He asked me to return in the afternoon and report back whether she was still there.

I returned in the afternoon and saw that she was still there, penned with the others. Her condition was worsening. She was now laying down, awkwardly trying to hold her udder away from herself, her neck stretched out trying to keep her head up but with her eyes closed. There were no provisions made for her. A worker who dropped a bale into the pen shooed the ones nearest him away to make room for it, forcing the others to fearfully move back, trampling her.

I called the provincial vet again. Finally, they sent two vets out. They called the auction vet who was again 'at the track'. The buyer of Emily was located (in the front row of the auction, buying more cows) and told one of the injured cows he bought would be inspected and may be euthanized. He was not happy and called after them: "Bring me some good news!". As we were about to enter the stabling area, I was blocked and told I couldn't go in. The manager then came over and yelled that I was "never to go in there - EVER". He then cocked his fist at me. I left the building and went to my car in the parking lot to wait for the vets. Sometime later, the vets came out and told me they had euthanized her. They had also diagnosed her with a twisted stomach at this point. They said they had been able to determine that the buyer had planned to ship Emily to a slaughterhouse in Ontario the following Monday, after the weekend, meaning many more days of unrelenting suffering for Emily had she not been euthanized.

The buyer had planned to ship Emily to a slaughterhouse in Ontario the following Monday, after the weekend, meaning many more days of unrelenting suffering for Emily had she not been euthanized.

There were never any charges laid and I was told by the chief vet's office that the best they could do was look into who brought Emily to the auction in that condition and send them a letter.

I was left to wonder how many dairy cows go through something similar to what Emily endured and how many people fail them as they're put through the system. The very fact that the buyer was confident that a slaughterhouse would accept Emily in the condition she was in is also telling. I share my part in failing to address Emily's suffering much more quickly.


Emily's death wasn't the end to her story. After I released my report on the case, I started finding dead animals left on my property and receiving threatening messages. One local farmer told me I should be "hung on a meat hook to replace the meat I took" (for having Emily euthanized). I don't like to admit it, but I was scared. And at least I have a voice and a legal standing. Imagine being a dairy cow, deemed worthless by the industry that had exploited you until there was nothing left to you, sent to an auction for the last of your flesh to be haggled over.

This is the Canadian dairy industry. This is what World Milk Day represents.


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Art and a connection to animals have been constants throughout Twyla’s life, but fifteen years ago she was compelled to bring them to the forefront. She co-founded a small animal advocacy organization, stumbled into the ugly world of industrial animal agriculture, and immediately began conducting investigations to understand what she was seeing. Exposing the extent of the horrors animals trapped in the system endure became her life's work. While her investigative footage received some media coverage, change wasn't coming soon enough for the animals. What she realized was that the very people who would empathize with the animals' suffering and take action were turning away from the graphic evidence before absorbing the message. She wondered if art, with its ability to be softer but equally as effective, could be the way to reach this group. She tentatively began releasing her paintings six years ago and the response has been heartening. All of her work—investigative and artistic—seeks to challenge our basic beliefs about farmed animals and foster a sense of justice for all animals.