We are at the calf market in Pola de Siero in northwestern Spain. Around 1,300 calves between two weeks and two months old are offered for sale here.
The market is better than many others. The pens are thickly strewn with straw, and a feeding team provides the young animals with milk replacer in the evening and morning. Nevertheless, calves that have not been fed for too long are always crying. The cries pierce you to the bone. It is difficult to look at the many children's faces and know that they will soon end up in a slaughterhouse somewhere. There is a high probability that they will end up in an export stable, from where they will be shipped to Algeria, Lebanon, Egypt, or wherever.
In the evening, when the animals are brought to the market, Vigo catches our eye. The light brown calf, which is already a little bigger than most of the others, is breathing heavily. He coughs repeatedly and seems to be having trouble breathing. We talk to the dealer, who tells us that he bought Vigo two days earlier at another market. He separates Vigo from the other calves and says that he has already been given medication. The next morning, Vigo's condition has not improved. We arrange for a veterinarian to examine Vigo. He is treated with antibiotics and is to remain at the market until he is better. The dealer is no longer interested in Vigo. He doesn't even give him water anymore; for him, Vigo is now just a burden, a cost factor. We give him water and talk to the market staff, who say they will take care of Vigo until he is picked up.
Two calves did not survive the night. Little Simon also seems to be struggling for his life. We alert the official veterinarians at the market and Simon is put out of his misery. As sad as it is to see the three dead animals, we can't help thinking that perhaps they have been spared a lot of suffering and a further harsh fate. There can hardly be anything worse than being born as a product of the ‘farm’ animal industry.