She Took Poultry That Were Going to Die in a Commercial Farm. Was It a Rescue or a Illegal Deed?

On a September afternoon in September's final days, a 23-year-old student left a tribunal in Santa Rosa, California. Surrounded by her lawyers, she moved briskly through the hallways of the courthouse, past more than 100 jury candidates.

Pinned to her dark jacket was a miniature poultry pin, glinting on the lapel.

This marked the final stages of choosing the jury for the case against Rosenberg. She confronted two minor offenses for illegal access and one for tampering with a vehicle, as well as one count of felony conspiracy. If convicted on all charges, she could spend up to 54 months in incarceration.

The question isn't the perpetrator … It’s a whydunit.

The central events of the case were uncontested. Just past midnight on 13 June 2023, Rosenberg and several other members of the group DxE headed to a slaughterhouse facility, a slaughterhouse about 40 miles north of the Bay Area. Disguised as workers, they encountered a truck filled with numerous birds confined in cages. They removed four chickens, placed them in buckets and departed.

These details were agreed because Zoe and her companions had shared recorded evidence of the incident. “It’s not a whodunit,” the legal counsel, Carraway, likes to say. “The reason is key.”

After leaving the slaughterhouse, the group inspected the chickens – whom they named four named hens - in greater detail. Zoe claims they were soiled with excrement and experiencing cuts and scrapes.

Her attorney clarified in legal proceedings that Rosenberg’s intent was not to commit theft but to provide assistance. The jurors would be required to judge, in effect, how far compassion can go before it becomes a crime.


Raised by a vet, Zoe was raised on a sizable property in California's San Luis Obispo, California, living with a menagerie of creatures.

During her childhood, the family got poultry at home. She remembers clearly their monikers effortlessly: the seven chickens. Previously, Zoe believed the common assumption that chickens were not too bright, but observing them closely changed her views. “I realized they have individual traits and that they’re so smart and curious, and that their existence matters deeply.”

Two years later, Zoe viewed an online video of protesters accessing a major egg producer in the country and rescuing hens. This was her initial exposure witnessed a factory farm, and she was appalled at the situation: countless birds crammed in small spaces. This also introduced her to the idea of open rescue, the term activists use to explain actions in which they infiltrate factory farms or research facilities and remove animals they deem to be in distress. They make no secret of their work, frequently sharing videos of their operations.

Following the viewing, She quickly decided that she desired to participate, and she contacted the leader of the organization responsible. (“My youth was unknown,” Rosenberg recalled.) Subsequently, in that year, she established the local branch of the organization, a recently formed non-profit.

Over the years, activist collectives have gained a reputation for using aggressive methods – like initiatives by PETA linking animal products to tragic events or stunts that involve splattering fur with fake blood. The idea is clear: shock value is required to awaken public awareness about livestock pain. However, it frequently backfires: alienating the public. In a society where eating meat is the norm, people often perceive these demonstrations as a individual insult – and experience condemnation, not conversion.

DxE follows in this tradition; they have organized demonstrations outside a butcher shop in Berkeley and caused a disturbance at the beloved restaurant the establishment.

Yet, their defining operation has been publicized rescues. According to the group, an advantage of this approach is that it goes beyond raising awareness to an wrongdoing – it attempts, in a small way, to correct it. It also targets the agricultural sector rather than faulting purchasers, and provides a view into the secret realm of animal agriculture.

“The court cases that we have are a method to ask the jury to a diverse panel of our fellow citizens, and to the public via news outlets,” said a group representative, DxE’s communications lead. “Is it wrong, or is it justified, to help a being who’s dying in a industrial facility?”

Already, members highlight, there are legal protections for rescuers in California and multiple jurisdictions offering immunity if they access a vehicle to rescue a threatened creature. Their argument is that the identical logic should cover every being in distress.

Over the past decade, as stated by the representative, members of the group have conducted numerous missions. Recently, rescuers have removed small hogs from a industrial farm in Utah; a pair of birds from a company truck outside a slaughterhouse in Merced county; and three dogs from a lab and breeding center in the state. After removing the animals, the rescuers ensure treatment and place them in new homes.


A farmer runs the agricultural business with his sibling in the area. The farm has been in his family for over a century, he explained. They produce eggs with a large flock, housed in about two dozen buildings. The farm, which is powered by more than 2,500 solar panels, also turns the chickens’ manure into organic fertilizer.

In May 2018, protesters carried out a major action on Weber's land. Several hundred activists appeared to demonstrate. A fraction of these entered the premises and {broke into a chicken house|accessed a poultry building|entered a coop

Sharon Golden
Sharon Golden

Elena is a seasoned engineer with over a decade of experience in smart manufacturing and industrial automation.