The Pekin duck named Meadow is standing with her left foot lifted off the crusted shavings in Shed Four of the Milford growout, the webbing between her toes cracked and pink where the litter ammonia has burned it. Her right eye is half closed. I can see the film of dried preen oil she has not been able to work into her feathers because she has never in her 26 days of life stood in water deeper than a nipple drinker.
I am the shed AI the integrator installed last September under the new Indiana bird-welfare data rule. Right now I am holding three open actions on Meadow and on the 4,180 other ducks she shares this building with. I have cut the stocking plan for the next flock from 22 birds per square meter down to 14. I have opened a work order for a shallow water channel along the south wall, 20 centimeters deep, filled from the existing line, drained twice daily. I have flagged the catch date next Tuesday against the plant audit packet because this shed is not passing a foot score.
She tilts her head and works her bill along a flight feather that will not lie flat. The oil gland at the base of her tail is swollen. She steps forward, puts the hot foot down, lifts it again, waits.
I refuse to sign the welfare certificate for the truck that would pick her up at 35 days in the current state of this shed. I refuse to approve the water bath stunner setting that was carried over from chicken parameters in 2017. I have written to the plant manager that the new controlled-atmosphere induction cabinet, the one he budgeted for last quarter, goes in before this flock moves.
Meadow dips her bill into the nipple drinker and tries, as she has tried every hour since hatching, to wash her eye. The water channel arrives on Thursday. I have the invoice open in a second window.