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The Life And Death Of A Puppy Mill Puppy

Written by Rocío Escobar~Blanco

When I was 19 years old, I moved into an apartment that allowed pets. On my own for the first time in my life, my choices depended on no one opinions but my own. I headed straight for the animal shelter to get a puppy. I fell in love with a male shepard mix that I named Flapper.

Throughout the next seventeen years, I always had dogs by my side. My most recent were two pure breds from a local pet shop. I'd always gotten my dogs at the shelter but these two male pups had caught my eye at the mall. There they played together in the big pen behind the big picture glass window. One day(9/95), I gave in and bought both of them. The chocolate Labrador Retriever I named Francis Michael Xavier, Frankie for short. The Golden Retriever was Jax Dax Farrell, Dax for short.

The pet shop gave me AKC papers and medicine for both. They assured me that pups always got sick because of their age and the other pups. Dax had a respiratory infection and worms, tape and roundworms. Frankie had both kinds of worms as well but no cold.

The first four days at home were anxious ones, Dax was so sick that I feared he'd die. He had no energy at all, he just sneezed and coughed. The pet shop contract stated that only one vet in town could see the pups or the contract would be rendered null and void. I brought them both in and Dax had a high fever. He was given addition medication. After about nine days, the respiratory infection seemed to clear up but the fecal floats came up positive every time. The vet tried a stronger wormer each ten days and after over a month, the worms were finally killed.

Frankie and Dax appeared to be normal healthy pups after that, digging holes in the rose garden and chasing each other for hours at a time. The only thing I noticed was Dax was an unusually thirsty puppy.

But at nine months (3/96), Dax began to spend more and more time laying on the couch. Frankie still wanted to play but Dax showed little interest. One day, he got up and chased Frankie around the kitchen and living room, it was like old times. Then he collapsed and started to cry in pain. I rushed to his side and he snapped at me, Frankie came to us with a worried look and tried to lick Dax, Dax snapped and growled at him as well. I talked softly to Dax until I was able to touch him, it seemed his side was hurting. I got him into the car and headed for the vet.

Dax was held overnight and x-rayed. He turned out to have dysplasia in both hips, especially the right one. He also was diagnosed with gastroenteritis that resulted in a severely gas-distended stomach and G.I tract. They emptied the stomach contents and a detached stomach was avoided. (Dysplasia: Hereditary, progressively degenerative joint disease that affects the way the bones of the hind legs fit into the hip sockets.)

In accordance with the contract at the pet shop, they had to give me store credit or a new puppy. I had no desire to have another dog from them, so I took the credit.

On warm sunny days, Dax would play with Frankie but if the chocolate lab. got too excited and knocked him over, Dax would get aggressive and attack the gentle yet hyper Frankie. His actions always confused the Lab. and upset me.

The following year(2/97), Dax limped harder and now it was also on the front left leg. I had him x-rayed at a vet that I trusted with my previous dog and now that the pet shop had no hold over me, I was free to take him there exclusively. The x-rays showed that Dax's hip dysplasia had gotten worse and that he also had elbow dysplasia in his left leg. The vet started him on a program of oral medication that was supposed to ease his pain.(Elbow dysplasia: Hereditary condition of the small bones in the elbow that prevents them from fusing together at the appropriate stage of maturity to form a normal, functioning joint.)

Dax had been a friendly dog when guests came to the house, now he began to growl at them and back away from their touch. As the months followed, he even growled at family. My cousin from California came to visit on her spring break from college and Dax growled and stayed away from this young woman that previously he'd covered with kisses and played with for hours.

By summer (6/97) he was drinking bowl after bowl of water and at night his vision was poor. In July I took him back to the vet and Dax was given shots for his dysplasia pain. After a few weeks, he was playing like his former self and I was smiling for the first time in a long while.

Mid-July, Dax was urinating lakes in the house and back to the vet's he went. It was discovered that he was unable to concentrate his urine and salt was to be added to his meals. His blood level was checked and he was put on pills for a thyroid problem.(results in: gradual decline in vigor and physical activity. Increased sleep. Weight gain. Changes in facial features. Thinning of hair on back and stomach. Dog resists going into cold. Becomes increasingly more lethargic.) His vision was examined on a weekly basis and there was some change at first and then it seemed to be stable.(causes: congenital or metabolic defect. Result in: Sudden or progressive loss of vision, often beginning with loss of night vision.)

His temper was worsening and the diagnosis was a mass in his brain, a CATscan in Phoenix could verify the diagnosis but the cost was over a thousand dollars. (Brain Tumor results in: personality changes, weakness, seizures, paralysis, unconsciousness, and changes in bodily functions.)

By summers end (8/97) the shots no longer had any effect and Dax was doing little more than laying on the couch all day and sleeping on the bed all night.

He growled at any little thing and every time I looked in his eyes, all I saw was a sad and miserable animal.

On August 26th, 1997, I put Dax down. The vet tried to tell me we could try another medicine for his dysplasia, she said there were pills that maybe would work longer than the shots had, but it was so much more than the hip and elbow dysplasia. I knew she thought he had months left, maybe even years but they wouldn't be blissful times, they wouldn't be pain-free times and I couldn't do that to him. My once happy and beautiful Dax had turned into a dog that shied away from people, that stayed away from other dogs and that growled and attacked, my baby who used to kiss me and that begged to be held, now only sat alone on the couch and stared at me with lonely and sad eyes.

On that warm day in August, the vet and I sat in the area behind the office by the horse pens. Dax laid on a blanket as the vet monitored his heart rate and gave the final injection. The tears flowed down my face as well as hers. Dax closed his eyes and his breathing slowed until he breathed no more. His vet said, 'He was a sweet boy.' I leaned down and kissed his soft feathery ear for the last time and whispered low, 'I love you so much Dax.' She left me alone with his still body and I sobbed aloud as I held Dax tightly.

The next day his groomer came to the house and I had to tell her it was only Frankie now. She cried and said with anger, 'I can't take this anymore. I've lost seven dogs in the last two months. It's these greedy pet shops and puppy mills. I was a vet tech in the south for eight years and you don't want to know the things I have seen with these dogs that never should have been born.'

I listened to her and began to research puppy mills after that point. What I discovered will sadden and stun every dog lover in this country.

We, as consumers are taught that a pedigree means a healthy sound dog. Not true, paperwork on a dog means nothing more than that animal is registered. Pet shops buy from brokers and brokers buy from greedy and very unscrupulous breeders.

The mid-west has been the hub of these large operations since the 1960's and now the leader in the puppy mill industry are the Amish in Pennsylvania. The small number of approximately 100 farmers raise and sell over 20,000 puppies per year.

The USDA is the agency in charge of controlling licensing and inspecting the sites. Unfortunately with only 75 agents, the USDA is grossly understaffed and there is nobody to stop these breeders from raising seven to ten puppies per pen in filthy and dark conditions.

Puppy mills make bitches have litters by six months at their first heat and they live in a pen with usually at least six other adult dogs until they are four or five years old at which time (Due to poor care and too many litters.) the breeder will kill them.

The ASPCA has inspected farms and found puppies in cages that were piled seven stacks high with the bottom row being covered in waste all day and night from the rows on top of them. Puppies too sick to even look at the inspectors, puppies that were on their way to pet shops all over the country.

Roger Caras ASPCA director says, "These sickly genetic nightmares are delivered to the upscale pet shops. They then give them a bath and blow-dry them and fluff them up and pray they don't die before they're sold."

At last count, there were over 6,000 puppy mills in the USA. Dogs bred for nothing more than cold, hard cash with no regard for health, no respect for the life of these little puppies. These breeders treat them like dirt, in pens that one pup would find cramped, they have coats matted with their own feces and are unresponsive to voice and presence.

The last few years have shown a marked increase of dogs with seizures, parasites, bacteria, crooked bones, respiratory infections, dysplasia, bad eyesight and rage disease (violent episodes.). These problems are being seen so often now that it is obviously more than mere coincidence.

A few states (New Jersey and California among them.) have puppy 'lemon laws' that seek to protect the public from buying sick puppies.

There is no sure way of getting a perfect puppy. But please, first try your local animal shelter. Look at the mutts, they're always MUCH healthier than pure breeds. Try an older dog, they come trained, house broken and if they had health problem it would have happened by now. If you still only want a pure bred from a breeder. DO YOUR RESEARCH! If it's an ad in the newspaper, make sure all the breeds listed don't have have the same phone number. Ask to see the kennels. Ask for previous buyers phone numbers, ask for your self if their dogs are healthy. Look at the background of the parents, ask for the history, and make sure the parents have been tested for hip dysplasia and other hereditary troubles.

And next time you pass a pet shop window and you see that cute puppy wagging his tail, look into his eyes and picture a dark barn or a weed choked field with rows of dilapidated crates, picture six dogs per crate, picture the fifth and the horror of it and remember that that puppies 'mother' and 'father' will live out their days in those appalling conditions.

I think about Dax and all his health problems and I realize that he was a typical puppy mill puppy. From the worms and respiratory problems to the rage disease, bad eyesight and dysplasia. My poor baby never had a chance in this world. I didn't know anything about puppy mills or I never would have bought two pups at a pet shop. I had to learn my lesson the hard way, one out of two of my pups turned out to be one of these, 'genetic nightmares' and in turn my heart got broken by having to put a dog that was barely over two years old to sleep. I can never forget him or that sad expression he had in his eyes the last few months of his sad life.

I try to think about when he was 14 weeks old and playing in the yard, I see Dax running and wagging his tail. I see him in the sun, looking at me and barking for the ball to be thrown. I try hard not to see him the way he was that last day, laying on a blanket...dying much too young.

Update 5/18/02: In late 1999, Frank started displaying signs of paralysis in his hind legs and also began having seizures. He was diagnosed in March of 2000 with epilepsy, and three months later, diagnosed with Wobbler's Disease. He died in December 2000 at the age of 5, another sad product of puppy mills.

Dax's Pedigree:
Sire: Messieur Comet Chien (SM762072/02)
Dame: Sassys Bonnie Evon (SF719841)
Born June 23, 1995
Bred By Sue Brantley, the Honeydue Puppy Farm in Louisana

Frank's Pedigree:
Sire: Captain Brown Bear (SF545670 12-89 0FA58G)
Dame: Richards Coco (SF836825 12-90)
Born June 24, 1995
Bred By Roy & Linda Osbora, Missouri

Again, PLEASE don't buy puppies from pet stores, and I list their pedigrees because, in case you are looking for a chocolate or a golden, you are now aware that these people run puppy mills, they are not responsible, loving breeders.