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.
I huddle inside my
small cage. I can barely stand, it's so small, but that is ok, because the wires
of the floor cut into my bare feet when I do. My skin is raw, and cut, where
I've had to lay so uncomfortably for hours on end, days without end, years that
go on forever. My body offers no comfort, as it's thin, and bony.
I have no bed on which to lay my body. No blanket to cover me when I'm cold. No
furniture on which to sit. No private place to do my "business". No friends to
call my own. I am in Solitary Confinement, with only myself for company.
My fellow "prisoners" can't help me, for they too are in total misery. Their
lives are no better than my own. I often hear their cries in the night. Cries of
pain, cries of sadness, cries of loneliness.
I am hungry, and sick, but my captors don't really care. I receive no medical
attention, as I'm not considered important in the entire scheme of things.
My children give me a few moments of joy, But they are taken too early, leaving
my breasts filled with milk. I know a different kind of pain now. The pain of
love lost. The pain of true misery.
My stomach has stopped growling. It's way beyond that, as I sit here with the
pain. Yesterday I Vomited blood, as my stomach began to turn on itself. Today I
saw hair falling out by handfuls. What had been beautiful golden hair is now
gone. Part of me wonders if maybe it will be over soon.
I sit day in and day out, staring into space. I have no family to remember to
give me strength. I know of no God to worship in times of fear. I have no love
to remember in times of pain. I have no hope.
I have no hope, For I am a prisoner of Cruelty. A prisoner of Pain. A prisoner
of Greed. A prisoner of War.
For I am a prisoner of a Puppy mill."
FIGHT PUPPY MILLS: ADOPT, DON'T SHOP
By Teresa Maro Rozich, May 1998
My bones ache, my
muscles sore, so tired I have grown, I sit within the small confines of this
tiny cage I call home.
Many friends surround me, lots of different breeds, They too share my aches and
pains, with no humans to tend our needs.
I am a bitch or so they call me, I hear its not a bad name, Lots of puppies I
have whelped, to them its just a game.
I sit and watch day after day, so many puppies being born, Where do they go,
what happens to them, when from their Moms they're torn?
I can see the grass growing tall and green, I long to sniff and feel it. I've
never walked upon that field nor have they let me near it.
Instead I walk upon this screen so hard, so rough so cold. My feet ache, my toes
are sore, I'm exhausted and feel so old.
My friends have told they lived in places, long before this one. Where humans
touched them every day and with children they could run.
I long to have just one human pet and kiss me, and maybe play a game. I know it
will never happen, but I wish it all the same.
Instead they bring another dog and toss him in with me, Another litter I must
bear, there's no end that I can see.
The little girl that sits beside me, cried out the other day, She screamed out
loud then limp she went and the pups were taken away.
She was gone but just a day, when her sister was beside me, she too had some
more puppies, so small and weak and tiny.
The other day they came and checked me, while my puppies were being born, "This
ones too big, there's no use now, her insides are too torn"
The scooped me up, it hurt so bad, the blood was everywhere, They never tried to
help me, they didn't seem to care.
They took me to that big green field, and laid me on the ground, The smell was
heaven, and the ground so soft, I tried to look around.
They covered me with more soft soil, I had nothing to fear. I closed my eyes and
just relaxed, I knew the end was near.
No longer do I imagine the feel of human touch, or how it feels to run and play,
here I have so much.
There is a great big colored bridge, and fields that go forever, I'm happy, I'm
home, I'm someone's friend, it couldn't get much better.
Author Unknown
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 a
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 at 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 bought 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 gently 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, back yard
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 6 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 breath. 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 "it
might now be the time". Several times I have went to that veterinarians 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 my constant companion 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 veterinarians 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 holds 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,
good-bye 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)
I got these off of a forum I go to and thought I would share them with everyone. It is very disheartening to think there are people out there that are even capable of this type of cruelty. It makes me very mad and want to do something about it. I registered with nopuppymills.com and ordered brochures to pass out. I know that my contribution isn't much but I am learning day by day about what I can do to help. I will post a link to the no puppy mills website and hope that people who just read these might take a look at it. Thank you, and if there is anyone else out there who has other stories please, I would love to put it on my site to educate. Thanks in advance! Roni
