Get Your Kleenex! Puppy Mill Rehab Story

[Sherri, Sophie, Winston, & Kitty]

This is a story about a dog who was rescued from that nasty puppy mill in Quebec not too long ago, and about her amazing rehab. Get out your kleenex before reading...unless you have a doodle nearby to clean up your face.

 

 

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Amy and her puppies are learning to live normal lives – with regular meals, clean bedding, toys, and affection – after being removed from a puppy mill.

Photograph by: Suzannah J. Vanson

Suzannah J. Vanson is one of the Quebecers who have volunteered to offer a foster home to the more than 500 dogs seized by animal-welfare officials in a raid on a kennel in the Outaouais region in September. Amy and her puppies have been at Vanson’s home in Dollard des Ormeaux for the past seven weeks. Here Vanson writes of the experience – from Amy’s perspective.

I am not very old – probably under three. Until very recently, I had never seen the light. I didn’t feel the ground. I didn’t know warm touches or a warm bed. Fresh air was foreign to me. I was used to breed, litter after litter. My puppies were all I had and I took care of them well, even though I was sad and in a lot of pain from a large bladder stone that would soon be discovered.

One day we were all taken away from the puppy mill and brought to a new place, a shelter. I was part of the largest-ever puppy-mill seizure in Quebec or Canada. I sat with my five babies, scared and alone, in a cage. A woman came one day, and I heard her say, “It doesn’t matter which one I take – whoever needs it the most.” The vets pointed to me.

The next thing I knew my babies and I were in a cage in a car – that was scary. Then I was brought into a room that was bright and clean, and so quiet. I had never known quiet before. There was a cage, and warm, clean bedding, and bowls of fresh water.

Food was brought to me every four hours. The woman kept talking to me, but I made sure to hang my head low, never to look at her, and to stay in the back of the cage.

I knew my place.

After a few days I got curious about this woman, and I would peek around the corner at her. That was the start of what she calls my rehab into normal life.

The woman kept calling me Amy. No one ever called me a name before, or sat with me to pet me. She always cleaned up after me. I never sat in my own filth any more.

The woman kept coming into the room and just sitting with me. I wasn’t sure why, or what she wanted. She held my babies, but always gave them back. She offered me cheese, but I was too frightened to take it, so she left it for me and I ate it as soon as she left. Slowly, with time, I started to eat it in front of her, and then I even took it from her hand. I started to learn that her hands don’t hurt.

She cut the hair from my face, and I could see. (She says I have Bette Davis eyes, and keeps kissing my nose.) She gave me a bath. I was terrified, and tried with all my might to get away, but finally I just sat as she washed me and then held me in a heated towel. It was an ordeal, but it felt good not to have filth on me.

I am terrified when she has a leash. I cannot help but shake and hold my head down, and cower in the corner. I wish I could tell her what happened to me with a leash. Then she would know why it frightens me so much.

On warm days she sits outside with me and holds me. I am scared of the bright sunshine and the noises, but I am starting to look around. This world seems to be full of so much I have never seen before.

I feel happy when I see her now. I even caught myself wagging my bum. What a curious feeling – can it be joy?

The woman brought toys. My babies wanted them, but I think I liked them even more. I never had a toy before. The woman brought many more, so we all had toys to keep next to us.

One day when the woman was sitting with us, playing with my puppies, I suddenly had the urge to do something I had never done before. I got up and I nudged her with my nose: “Pay attention to me, lady. Those kids can wait.” The woman turned around and realized it was me asking, and she started to cry. She seemed to think she had “got me” – that I had made the leap from puppy-mill dog to a friend who lives in a home.

© Copyright (c) The Montreal Gazette

Read more: http://www.montrealgazette.com/life/viewpoint+from+misery+bliss/579...

[Karen, Jasper and Jackdoodle]

I hope that as people read this in the paper, they will realize that for every cute puppy in a pet store, there is an "Amy" left behind in the puppy mill, a nameless, brutalized mother living the kind of life described, churning out litter after litter in pain and filth and never knowing the feel of grass or sunlight or kindness. And purchasing anything from a store that sells puppies is supporting this kind of cruelty.

[F, Calla & Luca]

So very sad and hopeful at the same time. I wish people who don't have dogs but are thinking of getting one could all read things like this. The TV news has been good for some publicity about the puppy mills, though.

[Doris, Knox & Flash]

Love the happy ending!  Now if I could stop crying..

[Lisa, Daisy & Dexter]

Against my better judgement I read this at work....happy tears!

Thanks Goodness there are people and organizations out there that have the time, and desire to help!

[Kaytlin and Cooper]

rehabilitating a puppy mill dog must be so difficult. What a wonderful person to do this.

[Donna M Lowry]

What you offered as compassion to this mama dog and her babies - may you get back ten-fold!

 

[Clifford, Cloud, Jake..and Kim]

I too started my day with tears after reading this article.  Thank you for sharing it.  The outpouring of love and kindness to help all of these animals is touching.

[Jennifer,Chloe & Myla]

Ok Sherri-I was catching up on al the posts and knew I had to save yours for last because of the tissue warning. Myla is taking care of the tears, anytime she hears me sniffle she comes running and jumoing on my lap. Bless this woman and all the others who are fostering. I myself would be keeping Amy for myself!