Recently, I went to see a midlands fur farm, which was situated in a scenic area beside a canal. The first thing that met me was the noxious smell of effluent, and then from a bridge on the canal I could look down and see the extent of the operation, row upon row of sheds, with the confined mink throwing themselves desperately against the cages — a very distressing and depressing sight, knowing that there was nothing one could do to alleviate their torture.