Species.

Species.

It was a really surreal experience because I didn't know what to expect from a tiger farm.

I've been in a lot of industrial farms of other animals.

I sort of thought to myself, surely it can't be. It can't be actually a farm. I've been in a lot of industrial farms of other animals. I didn't, I sort of thought to

myself, surely it can't be. It can't be actually a farm, like, like, like what, what we see how

they, how we race pigs and chickens and cats. It's, but it was literally a factory farm. It's a

prison, it's initially. Just row after row after row of tiger.

Hi, I'm Elizabeth Novogratz.

This is Species Unite.

There are moments when a single photograph can change how we see the world.

For photojournalist Amy Jones, that moment came inside a dark, airless building on the border of Thailand at a tiger farm.

That's where she met Salamis, a 20-year-old tiger who had spent her entire life in a concrete cell,

bred over and over again for the tourist and medicine trades.

Amy's photograph of Salamis, a tiger who was skin and bones and pressing her head against a cold concrete wall, has gone on to win some of the most prestigious awards in photography.

And it's brought international attention to an industry that almost no one knew existed,

the factory farming of tigers. This conversation is about the rescue of that tiger,

about the power of visual storytelling, and about what it means to bear witness

even when it breaks your heart.

Hi. Amy, hi, thank you. Hi, thank you. Thanks for having me, Beth.

It's really good to have you.

Okay, so before we start, we're going to just say who you are and you're many people in terms of what you do.

...