It’s hard to imagine how anyone would think of killing such a precious creature, but it’s an everyday reality that the dairy industry glosses over. Milk ads show us “happy cows” grazing lush and idyllic pastures, just waiting to “give milk,” conveniently omitting how lives like Pietro’s are considered byproducts and are therefore expendable.

Pietro is a Holstein calf. Holsteins are commonly raised for dairy—and in dairy, boy calves are generally sold for meat. But the farmer couldn’t sell Pietro. The newborn was sick, and he had a broken leg. He could barely stand, let alone walk. It wouldn’t be worth their time or the cost to nurse Pietro to health and then sell him.

The only other path for males born to the dairy industry is to be killed. And had things gone differently for Pietro, his story would have ended here.

The industry would like people to believe that cows magically “make milk.” But like all mammals, cows only produce milk when they’re pregnant or nursing. Their bodies make it to feed their babies—without a baby, there will be no milk. In short, Pietro exists because the dairy farm needed to kickstart his mother’s milk production.

In many dairies, calves get little more than colostrum from their mother. Colostrum is a vital nutrient in a mother’s first milk post-delivery. It helps newborn calves build their immune systems. But if calves like Pietro drink much more than that, the farm would have less milk to sell. So farmers remove calves from their moms within weeks, days, or hours of birth––they might otherwise nurse until they’re close to a year old.

We don’t know what happened to Pietro’s mother. But after his birth, he was useless to the dairy because of his sex. His injuries and illnesses (pneumonia, a bacterial infection, and gastrointestinal diseases) left him unsuitable for meat production. Before the farm could kill this ailing calf, an advocate sympathized and asked to take him home.

Pietro’s rescuer gave the doe-eyed babe some food and wrapped him in blankets to keep him warm. Then, they started making calls to see if anyone could help save his life.

We learned about Pietro through Woodstock Farm Sanctuary and rushed him in for veterinary treatment, knowing full well that Pietro might not make it even with the best help. But this little guy proved to be quite the fighter!

After a few rounds of fluids and electrolytes, Pietro’s dull eyes brightened. Soon, he found the strength to stand on his own and walk around on his newly casted leg for support. This triumph happened just days after the dairy decided Pietro would never walk again.

His doctors gave us a better prognosis for his injured leg than his other ailments. Not long after that first spike in activity, Pietro crashed from fever, diarrhea, and sepsis from an infection. He needed several rounds of antibiotics to stabilize his condition—and we spent those first nail-biting days hoping for the best yet preparing for the worst.

After the first week, Pietro’s fever decreased, and he began gulping his milk with gusto. Days later, he started jumping around his hospital stall. By the following week, he was stable enough to come home to Farm Sanctuary for the first time.

Once his fever and viral load eased, Pietro started feeling well enough to have fun! We cheered as his cautious steps grew stronger. He started bouncing and bucking when people approached—anticipating play or a deep body scratch.

Today, Pietro is bearing more weight on his leg and no longer needs to wear a cast. This recovery is remarkable––we don’t always see this level of success. Some bone breaks significantly decrease an animal’s quality of life. A broken limb might never heal properly, or other limbs might break from overcompensation, leaving them unable to support their weight. Yet Pietro jumps around like he never broke his leg at all. His health now surpasses other calves deemed “healthy enough for slaughter.” What was once a life-threatening injury spared Pietro from death, so he can now have a life.

And he’s living well! Pietro is a darling boy who loves nuzzling up to us for affection. He’s also playful and rambunctious. During one of his first adventures outdoors, Pietro broke into another hospital stall to check out the sheep who were staying next door (the sheep were not as pleased to see their nosy neighbor). He’s a curious, loving, and growing friend who’s thriving in our care.

Pietro is so much more than just a handsome face. He’s an individual whose life has meaning. And he’s an ambassador for all the calves we’ll never get to know—the millions slaughtered long before their time each year.

Most people find it simple (not to mention rewarding) to empathize and interact with their companion animals. And cows are just as worthy of our care and affection. Like dogs, they love to play. Like cats, they are sensitive and tender—they, too, investigate novel changes in their environment and groom their loved ones with their tongue. They might even choose you to receive such an honor!

Cows—and all farm animals—are not just here to be our friends (or to be exploited for food, for that matter). They have lives independent of our involvement. They are sentient beings with agency. They feel and seek out experiences and companions that make them feel good. It’s when human involvement causes them pain that we must set things right.

Animals like Pietro are someone, not something. They’re family—and their lives mean so much more than the milk they die to make.