And even though it was unbelievably muddy, that was not why I took a long, hot shower when I got home.
It was a disgusting experience...And try as I might, I could not wash off the sleaziness and disgust that I had become encased in.
|photo by Star Cat|
As I watched dogs, their hopeful eyes pleading, get sold for anywhere from $5 to several hundred dollars, I grew more and more despondent. Only a few of the bidders were with a rescue group; the rest were Amish (puppy mills is now one of their new ways of making big money), Mennonite, and the rest were folks I considered "typical" for where we were and what we were doing. And what we were doing was horrible...
The auction was held on the property of a puppy mill that was retiring its "stock." Their house was quite nice----spacious-looking (from the outside) and brick. Probably comfortable inside. The family probably padded around in the evening on carpeting or lovely hardwood floors.
Dogs that live to breed are not so lucky. Some of them never get to stand or walk on grass. Some of them don't even have enough room to turn around. And almost none of them get the chance to know what a loving home is like...
|photo by rglaser|
Unfortunately, most of the property was off-limits. Several large buildings could be seen, wire cages (empty) were stacked inside, but signs clearly said, "Stay away." Also posted were signs warning us to not take any photos or videos.
The auctioneer, when a pregnant dog was being bid on, would call out, "She's showin' a belly, she's got a belly," and the assistants would hold the dog up for everyone to see.
By seven that evening, the Golden Retrievers we had bought were loaded in the car. Our rescue friends bid on Bloodhounds and Japanese Chin and various other canines. Altogether, 31 dogs were rescued, which meant no more litters would be born because of those dogs. Thirty-one out of more than 300. Not very good odds, I'd day...
|photo by tcsails|