by Wayne Mayes
http://www.hua.org/Prisoners/Articles/Mayes.html
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 it's 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 to week 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 waist 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 their
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 to 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 breed 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 it's self 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.
People wonder why some rescue people do puppymill rescue
and now you know. They do whatever has to be done to help end the
suffering of the animals in these places. 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
products from pet stores that sell puppies and kittens. When the demand
goes away the mills will close. Help by promoting rescued animals as an
alternative. Every animals that finds a new home from a rescue group
makes room for another to be saved by rescue. Donate money to help
purchase the freedom of a puppymill baby. The animals at auctions can
and many are being rescued when the funds are available. Send a little
note to a rescue person thanking them for what they do to save animals.
It's easy to become burned out in this business when we keep seeing so
many animals that desperately need our help.
Copyright � WM 2000 Wayne Mayes
Go on to My Animals
Need A Loving Home - A True Story
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