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I don't remember much from the place I was born. It was cramped and dark, and we
were never played with by the humans. I remember Mom and her soft fur, but she was often sick, and very thin.
She had hardly any milk for me and my brothers and sisters. I remember many of them dying, and I missed them so.
I do remember the day I was taken from Mom. I was so sad and scared, my milk teeth had only just come in, and I really
should have been with Mom still, but she was so sick, and the Humans kept saying that they wanted money and were sick of the
"mess" that me and my sister made. So we were crated up and taken to strange place.
Just the two of us. We huddled together and were scared, still no human hands came to pet
or love us. So many sights and sounds, and smells! We are in a store where there are many different animals!
Some that squawk! Some that meow! Some that peep! My sister and I are jammed into a small cage. I
hear other puppies here. I see humans look at me. I like the 'little humans', the kids. They look so sweet,
and fun, like they would play with me! All day we stay in the small cage, sometimes mean people will hit the glass
and frighten us, every once in a while we are taken out to be held or shown to humans. Some are gentle, some hurt us.
We always hear "Aw, they are so cute! I want one!" but we never get to go with any. My sister died last night,
when the store was dark. I lay my head on her soft fur and felt the life leave her small thin body. I had heard
them say she was sick, and that I should be sold as a "discount price" so that I would quickly leave the store. I think
my soft whine was the only one that mourned for her as her body was taken out of the cage in the morning and dumped.
Today, a family came and bought me! Oh happy day! They are a nice family, they
really, really wanted me! They had brought a dish and food and the little girl held me so tenderly in her arms.
I love her so much! The mom and dad say what a sweet and good puppy I am! I am named Angel. I love to lick my
new humans! The family takes such good care of me, they are loving and tender and sweet. They gentle teach me
right and wrong, give me good food, and lots of love! I want only to please these wonderful people! I love the
little girl and I enjoy running and playing with her.
Today I went to the veterinarian. it was a strange place and I was frightened. I
got some shots, but my best friend the little girl held me softly and said it would be OK. So I relaxed. The Vet must
have said sad words to my beloved family, because they looked awfully sad. I heard "Severe hip dysplasia," and something
about my heart... I heard the vet say something about backyard breeders and my parents not being tested. I know not
what any of that means, just that it hurts me to see my family so sad. But they still love me, and I still love them
very much!
I am six months old now. Where most other puppies are robust and rowdy, it hurts
me terribly just to move. The pain never lets up. It hurts to run and play with my beloved little girl, and I
find it hard to breathe. I keep trying my best to be the strong pup I know I am supposed to be, but it is so hard. it
breaks my heart to see the little girl so sad, and to hear the Mom and Dad talk about, "Now might be the time."
Several times I have gone to that veterinarianšs place, and the news is never good.
Always talk about Congenital Problems. I just want to feel the warm sunshine and run and play, and nuzzle with my family.
Last night was the worst. Pain has been constant now, it hurts even to get up and get a drink. I try to
get up but can only whine in pain.
I am taken in the car one last time. Everyone is so sad, and I don't know why.
Have I been bad? I try to be good and loving - what have I done wrong? Oh if only this pain would be gone!
If only I could soothe the tears of the little girl. I reach out my muzzle to lick her hand, but can only whine in pain.
The veterinarianšs table is so cold. I am so frightened. The humans all hug and love me, they cry into my soft fur.
I can feel their love and sadness. I manage to lick softly their hands. Even the vet doesn't seem so scary today.
He is gentle and I sense some kind of relief for my pain. The little girl hold me softly and I thank her, for giving
me all her love. I feel a soft pinch in my foreleg. The pain is beginning to lift, I am beginning to feel a peace
descend upon me. I can now softly lick her hand.
My vision is becoming dreamlike now, and I see my Mother and my brothers and sisters, in
a far off green place. They tell me there is no pain there, only peace and happiness. I tell the family goodbye
in the only way I know how - a soft wag of my tail and a nuzzle of my nose. I had hoped to spend many, many moons with them,
but it was not meant to be. "You see," said the veterinarian,"pet shop puppies do not come from ethical breeders."
The pain ends now, and I know it will be many years until I see my beloved family again. If only things could have
been different.
This story may be published or reprinted in the hopes that it will stop unethical
breeders and those who breed only for money and not for the betterment of the breed. Copyright 1999 J. Ellis
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VICTIMS OF GREED
Driving down the winding back roads of America's heartland our eyes
take in the beauty of the world around us as we listen to the radio and forget about the cares of the world we live in. We
feel the warm sun as it shines down around us and look at all the trees and wild flowers and wonder how things could get any
better than this as we roar on down the highway to our destination.
If we were to turn off the highway on to almost
any one of the millions of
miles of back roads in the heartland of our country, turn the radio off,
roll down our windows
and drive slow we would hear a much different sound. We would hear the sounds of song birds singing in the trees, we would
hear the sounds of cattle as they called to each other, and we would hear the sounds of gravel as it crunched under our tires
as we drove.
We wouldn't have to drive very far before we would hear a much different sound way off in the distance.
This isn't the sound of some happy bird or the sound of any cow as it calls to its calf. It is the sound of an animal in distress.
It is the sounds of hundreds of poor defenseless animals held prisoner because of greed. If you followed the sound it would
take you to some locked gate with a sign that said, NO Trespassing, or Keep Out and what lies behind the gate would be left
up to your imagination as you slowly turn around and drive away.
Let me tell you what lies past that gate and just
out of sight.
The first thing you would hear is the sounds of hundreds of animals whimpering and crying, begging for
someone to help them. Your stomach would turn over as the intense smell of ammonia drifted out through every crack in the
dilapidated buildings where the cries from help came from. Your heart would be breaking as you reached for the handle to the
door of the first building, take a deep breath and try to hold it and rush inside.As the light streamed inside the building,
the sounds of the animals gets louder as some bark while others too weak to bark just lay and whimper.
You would see
rows of tiny wire cages stacked one on top of the other where the urine and feces of the animals above fell down on the animals
below - the piles of animal waste all along under the bottom row of cages.
You would see them crammed full of animals
almost unrecognizable by any breeds you know of.
You would see adults and puppies with missing limbs from being attacked
by other animals while trying to get enough food to eat, injury from getting their limbs caught in the holes in the cages,
and from mutilation by the miller.
You would see animals that are terrified of people because all they have ever known
was pain and exploitation at the hands of the millers.
You would see diseased and dying and dead animals in some of the
cages. One look in their eyes and you can see their plea for help. "Please help me."
If you haven't already lost the
cheese burger you had for lunch in the first building we could venture into the next building or room of the puppymill.
Behind
that door you would see rows of cages full of mothers with puppies.
You would quickly notice the deformed faces of many
of the mother dogs and when you asked , I would explain how the millers break the jaws of the mother dogs if they try to defend
their puppies when the brokers come. How most of these animals have never had proper medical care and the broken bones are
left to heal on their own.
You would see puppies so far from the breed standard they looked like a totally different breed
than the one they were supposed to be.
You might see dead or sick puppies laying in the cages as the others walked over
them.
Like the rock song says, "The smell of death
is around you."
If we had time to hang around we could wait
for the puppy broker to come.
You would see a truck or van stacked full from the floor to the ceiling with tiny plastic
cages - many of them already crammed full of puppies of every imaginable breed - all stacked in there like cord wood. The
sounds of hundreds of terrified puppies waiting in those dark cramped quarters waiting for their ride into the unknown. The
broker will take most of the puppies if they aren't too sick or so deformed he can't sell them. He will take any puppy the
millers say is 8 weeks old. Many of the animals are under 6 weeks but they are the right weight and size so they are torn
away from their mothers, by force at times, and sold to the broker.
As we walk away from this place you remember back
in school when you read about the concentration camps during WWII.
This place is just like that.
The animals are abused
and exploited until they are no longer profitable to the miller and then they are sold and most are killed.
The females
are bred every cycle from the time they first come in heat until they die.
The puppies are sold to unsuspecting pet buyers
all over the world as registered animals and no mention is ever made about the hell holes the parents live in or the genetic
problems the puppy has.
The Animals in the puppymills are truly prisoners of greed.
The next time you walk by a
pet store, stop and listen.
If you try, you will be able to imagine the suffering and pain it took to put that puppy in
that window.
The broken jawed mother as she struggles to eat so she has enough strength to go on another day. The tiny
puppy with the lower part of its leg missing because it was torn off while trying to free itself from the holes in the wires
of the cage it calls home or was eaten by another dog because it was starving to death. The whimpering of the animals as they
beg for the tender touch of a humane hand. The cries for help as they slowly die from neglect and starvation.
You may
not be able to go to a puppymill and see the things many of us have, but you can help end the suffering right where you live.
Tell
everyone you know NOT to buy dogs from these types of breeders. Research where you buy your dog from, to include an on site
visit.
When the demand goes away, the mills will close.
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