Oh, boy, am I happy! I wake up in the morning in a BED. Somebody COOKS for me. People call all day long from all over the country to find out how I am. I just can't believe how my life turned out. Getting rescued is the greatest thing that ever happened to me.
I'm learning all kinds of new things, like walking on a leash really far, as far as at least one hundred cage lengths. All distances for me mean something because according to USDA rules, I was only allowed 6 inches in front of my face to turn around. So believe me, after all that time in there, I know the exact length of a breeding facility cage.
There's so much to do now, I'm exhausted. I still can't figure out what stairs are. I don't know what all the fuss is about toys. My foster mom's other dogs have toys piled up all over the house but I don't know what to do with them. I've never had toys before but I'll figure it out. I hope my foster mom understands that if she had been in prison as long as I have, it would be like 70 years in human years. So I have to learn everything.
Yesterday, my foster mom took me to the vet and he told her I have cateracts, a pee pee infection and my teeth are really loose. It hurts when anything touches my mouth so I can only eat soft food, but that's ok, foster Mom or foster Dad cooks delicious, soft food for me whenever I want it. The vet said I was too skinny and near the end of my breeding cycles, which meant they won't miss me much at World Kennel USA. I wasn't much use for them anymore; I'm just an old lady who can't make puppies anymore.
But you know what? I don't feel worthless anymore. I saw myself in pictures in newspapers and on the TV in the news reports about the puppy mill bust I was in and hey, I'm not bad looking! And I'm actually famous. Everywhere I go, my foster mom tells them, "this is one of the breeding moms from the big puppy mill bust in Littlerock! Can you believe how they treated this poor dog? She had never been outside of her cage. How can people be so mean?"
Those people at the dog factory are mean. But only now that I am with nice humans do I fully understand it. My factory was in the high desert, which means it gets really cold at night and really hot all day. I was cold at night, really cold. I didn't have blankets. Now that I see how easy it is for humans to just wave a magic wand and get blankets for me, I wonder why puppy mill dogs can't be more comfortable. At least if we're going to be in prison making lots and lots of money for humans, can't they give us blankets? Heat maybe? A walk? A WALK? An opportunity to see the full sky NOT from behind bars?
During the day when I was at the mill, the sun would get in my cage and I had to curl up in a corner where there was a tiny spot of shade or I would roast. I only had a wire floor to walk on and it really hurt my feet. I tried to bark as loudly as I could but no one heard me--they cut my vocal chords.
Finally, somebody heard me. If I had vocal chords? I would sing an anthem right now.