A Woman Removed Chickens That Were Going to Die in a Factory Farm. Was It a Rescue or a Crime?
On a Monday afternoon in late September, the University of California, Berkeley attendee left a court in Santa Rosa, California. Surrounded by her attorneys, she walked quickly through the court building's passages, beyond dozens of jury candidates.
Fixed on her dark jacket was a small metallic bird, glinting on the lapel.
This marked the final stages of jury selection for Rosenberg’s trial. She confronted two misdemeanor charges for unauthorized entry and one count of vehicle interference, as well as a serious conspiracy allegation. If convicted on all charges, she could receive up to over four years in prison.
This isn't about who did it … The focus is on the reason.
The facts at the center of the legal matter were not in dispute. Just past midnight on June 13, 2023, Rosenberg and several other members of the group Direct Action Everywhere headed to Petaluma Poultry, a slaughterhouse about a short drive north of the city. Disguised as workers, they came across a vehicle filled with thousands of live chickens crammed in containers. They rescued four hens, put them in containers and left the scene.
These details were agreed because the group members had subsequently released video footage of what they had done. “This isn't about the perpetrator,” the legal counsel, the defense lawyer, likes to say. “It’s a whydunit.”
Following their exit, the activists examined the birds – whom they named four named hens - in greater detail. She stated they were soiled with excrement and showing injuries and sores.
Her attorney clarified in the courtroom that Rosenberg’s intent was not to steal but to help the birds. The jurors would be asked to determine, in effect, the limits of compassion before it crosses into criminality.
Raised by a vet, Zoe was raised on a sizable property in San Luis Obispo county, California, living with a menagerie of creatures.
When she was nine, the household acquired poultry at home. She can still rattle off their monikers effortlessly: the seven chickens. Before that time, She held the general view that chickens were not too bright, but observing them closely shifted her opinion. “I realized they have distinct characters and that their minds are sharp, and that their lives are really, really valuable.”
A couple of years after, Rosenberg watched an digital recording of rescuers infiltrating a major egg producer in the country and rescuing hens. It was the first time seen inside a commercial farm, and she was shocked by the conditions: countless birds confined in enclosures. It served as her first encounter to the notion of publicized rescues, the term activists use to describe operations in which they access commercial farms or labs and take creatures in need. They make no secret of their work, regularly releasing recordings of their operations.
Following the viewing, Rosenberg immediately knew that she desired to participate, and she emailed the director of the organization responsible. (“She had no idea I was 11,” she noted.) The next year, in that year, she established the regional group of Direct Action Everywhere, a emerging non-profit.
Over the years, advocacy organizations have developed an image for using direct actions – such as Peta’s campaign comparing meat consumption to the Holocaust or stunts that involve splattering fur with fake blood. The logic is simple: it takes shock to jolt people out of complacency about animal suffering. However, it frequently backfires: turning people off. Where meat consumption is standard, numerous view these actions as a personal attack – and feel judged, not persuaded.
They adhere to these methods; they have staged protests at a retail store in the area and disrupted a Friday dinner at the popular eatery the venue.
But the group’s signature move has been documented interventions. According to the group, an advantage of this approach is that it does not just call attention to an injustice – it attempts, in a small way, to correct it. It also targets the industry rather than blaming everyday people, and allows a look into the secret realm of animal agriculture.
“The trials we face are kind of a vehicle to pose the question to a diverse panel of our community members, and to society via coverage,” said a group representative, DxE’s communications lead. “Is it a crime, or is it justified, to rescue an animal who’s dying in a commercial operation?”
Currently, DxE activists note, there are legal protections for rescuers in CA and numerous states offering immunity if they access a vehicle to save an at-risk being. The claim is that the same principle should cover every being in distress.
Over the past decade, according to King, participants have conducted numerous missions. Recently, rescuers have removed young pigs from a Utah factory farm; several hens from a transport vehicle at a facility in the county; and canines from a lab and breeding center in the state. Following the rescue, the activists provide them with veterinary care and place them in new homes.
The proprietor operates Weber Family Farms with his brother in Petaluma. The property has been inherited for 113 years, he explained. They produce eggs with nearly a million birds, housed in about two dozen buildings. The business, which is energized by solar power, also recycles droppings for soil.
In May 2018, protesters carried out a large-scale operation on his farm. Numerous protesters gathered to object. A fraction of these stormed on to the property and {broke into a chicken house|accessed a poultry building|entered a coop