Sleep, Lilliput. Sleep.
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FROM Justin Van Kleeck, Microsanctuary Resource Center
October 2019

There is clearly an emotional detachment required to purposefully harm someone—as there is when eating the parts of formerly lively living beings—that makes no sense to me.

Hen Lilliput

Sometimes, when my mind slips away from me, I find myself wondering what it takes for someone to take their two hands, like disembodied implements of domination, to take those hands and execute the processes of taking a being’s life. Or what does it take, in a separate process of indirect death dealing, to abandon a being to an unknown fate because they no longer profit you, in one way or another...

So few of those discarded ones are saved and provided sanctuary. Most starve and die by depredation in an environment they aren’t equipped to survive. A chicken or a chihuahua—dump them in the wild, and it is almost certainly a certain death.
How does one do that? I suppose to the dumpsters it doesn’t matter. There is not guilt or shame or anxiety; there is a door to a mental compartment, and it closes behind them as they walk away.

There is clearly an emotional detachment required—as there is when eating the parts of formerly lively living beings—that makes no sense to me.

And if those who abandon do somehow summon a care, why should I care about that? About them? The deed is done and death is coming. Perhaps we can intervene, but only for the abandoned ones. Not for the humans’ sakes—not for their peace of mind, not for their salvation. Fuck them...

Remember the little ones, of every species, those free living and those forced to bear in their bodies the burdens of our greed. They did not ask to exist, but when they do they deserve our respect—not to become our victims. We have no need to be monsters. So stop.

Sleep, Lilliput. Sleep.



Lilliput was found by a nice family while he was strolling down a neighborhood street. He became ill, and they couldn’t provide him with vet care, so they reached out to us for help. He’s a young guy, less than a year old. He’s a Serama Chicken, so he’s a tiny little guy who would not have lasted very long outside.

It’s illegal to keep roosters in most cities, including the one where he was found, so people who breed and buy chickens frequently dispose of roosters by simply dumping them outside somewhere. Most don’t survive.

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