An urgent plea!

[SludgeMunkey]

Hello folks, normally I post this in my blogs around the web, but this year, I am doing direct posts on the various forums I participate in.


First, a story.

In 2005 our aged beagle dog passed away due to advanced terminal cancer. It was heartbreaking, as the loss of a family pet always is. I put my foot down. I insisted we wait a while before getting another dog.


I lost this battle after nine days.

My family wanted to buy a dog from a pet shop. I stated this was not an option. I then explained where pet shops get their dogs from: Puppy Mills.

Puppy Mills are everything that is wrong with America. Research the topic for yourself, and as pet keepers, I am sure you will agree.

I insisted on the Humane Society Shelter here in town, knowing full well there are good dogs that need a home. My family argued. The cried. There was much yelling about how H.S. dogs are all sick and old.

Finally, I got them to go down and check it out. they wanted a chihuahua and the bichon and...well you get the picture. They wanted dogs that were poor choices for our lifestyle.
Then I spied this little black mutt all alone in a "big dog" enclosure. he had a blanket and a squeeky toy. He ignored me completely as he was intently ravaging said toy. i looked at his H.S. "rap sheet" posted on the kennel door. it was long....and bad. Even the H.S. said this little dude was a lost cause- a bad dog.

I squatted down and called to him. He dropped the toy and strolled right over. He sniffed my hand through the cage, and then went back to his toy. I snuck him onto the "wish list" they make you fill out before meeting prospects.

Once our turn came, the bichon was already adopted. The chihuahuas were all adopted. The fully bichon mix mutt was adopted. We were 0 for 4. Then they brought in the little tiny black mutt...

He was, to say the least a high energy dog. As the H.S. employee read the cautionary tale of his rap sheet-
"Not housebroken. Knows no commands. Pulls on leash. Escape artist. high Strung... etc etc etc..." In short. We didn't want this dog.

As he was saying this, i had picked a tennis ball off the floor. The little guy Immediately sat and started at me with an expectant look. I tossed the ball. The staff member droned on about how bad this dog was. The little dude fetched the ball, sat down and placed the ball in my hand, all without ant commands.

I eyeballed the staff member who stood with a look of disbelief.

Half chihuahua, half pug, all black. My girls were enthralled. As the staff member insisted he was a bad match for any family. I stood and requested the next step, a leash test. The little guy was perfect the entire walk. All I had to do was hold up the lead, and he actually picked the harness up off the floor and brought it too me. No commands were given. The staff member argued with me.

I lost my temper. I requested the supervisor. The supervisor tried to argue with me, but I cut a check on the spot and explained that no one was going to get this dog but our family. period.

Truth be told, all this "bad" dog ever wanted to do was play fetch with a toy and sleep under the blanket in the bed. We named him Jesus Ezekiel Jesus after a character on AquaTeen Hunger Force. We call him Chuy for shout (that's a Mexican slang diminutive for Jesus). He is asleep on my lap right now as I write this...

A year later, a pug rescue contacted us. They had heard from the humane society that we had a knack for "problem dogs". They had a little fat girl-pug rescued from a Puppy Mill. She had spent the total 18 months of her life in a 4X4 cage with here mother and siblings. She was not housebroken, afraid of everything including grass. Her adoptions had all fallen through as no one wanted a pug afraid of even the sound of food being poured into her dish.
Turns out she was one bid short of heading off to the lab along with her siblings. All her siblings had been adopted.

Lesson learned, my wife told them to bring her over to met our family. They brought her. She was a nervous wreck from the car ride. I gave her a small piece of cooked chicken and helped her out into the back yard. She took a step in the grass, to try and go play with Chuy, whom had a stuffy toy in his mouth. one step in the grass and she jumped back and sniffed her paw. This dog was a mess! However, a few more strategically placed bits of cooked chicken and she was cavorting through the yard with Chuy like they were old friends.

I cut a check on the spot. We named her Seniorita Roxana, Roxie for short. It took only a week to train her. She would only potty on concrete. We had a concrete patio slab. I put in a doggie door and she did the rest herself. She quickly became a loving, playful little fat pug. Like all pugs, a little "schickens" is all it took to help her master her fear of doors, stairs, wind, sunlight, blue jeans, and a list other things. That took two weeks.Currently she is asleep in her favorite doggy bed at my feet, as my lap is not big enough for her AND Chuy!
Another dog no one wanted happy, healthy and content.

Two years later, A different pug rescue contacted us by a referral. They had a mill rescue female that was pregnant at the time of release. She had seven pups. All had been adopted save one. He wasn't the runt, but they stated he had failed all previous adoptions as he "...didn't act like a pug should..."

&^%#%$@^%!!!!!!

Idiots. A dog is going to be a dog. If people don't want a dog because it doesn't come out of the box behaving the way they expect, those folks should be legally prevented from owning a dog. Ever.

They brought him over. This was the "Pug Snob" rescue folks. They gave me dirty looks as they inspected our home inside and out. Obviously we were the wrong class of people to them. Then I called Chuy and Roxie. They went about inspecting the health of our dogs, as is customary when dealing with a rescue organization. Without a word, the two ladies stepped out front to converse privately.

They came back in with this tiny four pound ball of fuzz wrinkles, and eyeballs.
"Mr. Farnen, we were obviously very wrong in judging your family. Your pugs are in amazing health. They have perfectly clean healthy teeth and none of the common ear or eye issues pugs are notorious for. How do you guys do it?"

I replied simply, "We let dogs be dogs. We do not judge dogs anymore than we judge people. Both our dogs were ones noone else would take. As you can see, that was their loss."

I got dirty looks from everyone in the house for this statement.

The Pug Snob rescue folks glared at me.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind, bring the puppy in. He needs to go out back and play in the yard to learn how to be a dog." I started to cut the check as they went to retrieve the little guy from his travel kennel.

At four pounds, it was obvious why no one wanted this pup. Pugs of that age generally stay on the blanket in a pile, look cute, and have mini-hippo fights. This one made a wobbly puppy bee-line for Chuy and Roxie as they went out the doggie door. The pup tried to follow, but was just too small to even push the flap open.

I helped him out to the grass. Chuy brought him over a stick. The three of them started ambling slowly at puppy speed around the yard, each taking turns with the stick.

We named him "El Guapo" after the antagonist from the movie "the Three Amigos" (Get it? Three pugs, all "bad dogs") He now weighs 32 pounds, behaves like a true dwarf mastif, and is currently asleep in a pile with Roxie. He has never had any formal training whatsoever. He learned everything from the other two dogs.




So, what is my point in all this?

Easy.

This time of year many people add new pets to their home. I tell the story of three "bad dogs" to draw light to the FACT that there is no such thing as a bad dog only bad people.
Instead of playing the game of spending obscene amounts of money on a purebred that will most likely have health issues and come from a mill, try out the local Shelter and talk with he local dog rescues. Why doom dogs like mine to euthanasia?

All dogs require work. The source really doesn't matter.

So please, if you are thinking of getting a dog, please consider adoption first.

Chuy, Roxie, and Po thank you.

El Chuy

Sra. Roxie

El Guapo (that very first day)

All three enjoying their special Holiday meals. (Little Po is the BIG one!)

 

[kay]

Wonderful story!! Good on you for standing up for what you believe to be right and not letting ignorant people tell you otherwise.

I am very shocked even the Humaine Soeciety treated you like that. It seems also hypocritical to boast that you are in the business of save animals, and do your upmost to ensure each animal is adopted out....and yet they kept telling your first pug was a lost case.

Apparently, those staff forgot Humaine Society mandate 101.

I am pro adoption, always have an always will. There are loving animals waiting to be loved, and willing to love back.

 

[modestum]

There are plenty of nice cats that need to be adopted as well!

 

[Molch]

My Pudden

awesome.

I agree: adopt a dog!

I got my Pudden when she was 4 years old from a rescue. She had been through 5 or 6 homes before. Nobody could handle her high energy level (screaming hysteria) and reactivity to other dogs (being dragged on your belly through the mud because another dog showed up on the horizon).

when she turned 8 (2 years ago) I wrote her a letter which I posted on the golden retriever forum, where the Pudden chronicles her adventures. If anyone's interested, here it is:


My dear Pudden,

You are 8 years old today. Well, maybe not exactly today, but there-abouts. Since your record was somewhat spotted before you arrived at my doorstep, we only know you were born in early summer of 2001.

I decided on June 1st as your birthday, because it is such a happy day: one of the first real days of summer, with birds mating and moose calving and flowers shooting up everywhere, full of joy and life and promises of fun and sunshine – in other words, it is just like you.

You have been with me for almost 4 years now, which is 50% of your life and about 10% of mine. They have been the best 10% of my life so far, and I do hope the best 50% of yours. Remember when I first picked you up at the rescue? I had left my number as a potential foster mom. The rescue lady called to say they had “this dog”, who had been through at least 5 homes and had come back from a failed adoption and was a bit “unsettled” and just needed “a quiet place away from other dogs where she can calm down”.

When I first saw you, you were hovering 4 feet above the ground and barking madly, doing jumping jacks in your enclosure. Then my face was on the ground, and you were half way across the yard, lunging at some poor dog and taking his toy away which you immediately reduced to small colored bits of plastic.

With effort, we steered you to my car and threw you in the back. I started driving with what felt like a stampede of wildebeest in the back (except, wildebeest don’t bark). At the first stoplight, you broke through the barrier into the front seat, sat on my lap (70 pounds), barked hysterically, and took down the rearview mirror with your recently healed tail (having had an inch cut off because you kept breaking it). I had to turn around to the rescue and get a steel-gated cage to confine you in the car. I also got a citronella collar to make you stop barking. By the time we got home, your nose was bloody from pressing it against the cage bars, the whole car smelled like a lemon grove, and you were still barking (bark – pffft – bark – pffft – bark – pffft – so much for citronella collars).

When I had maneuvered you into my cabin, you jumped straight up and took down a rack of clothes that were suspended from the ceiling. You then proceeded to attack and shred apart the plastic spout of my water jug, spilling about 2 gallons on the carpet. I stood there feeling like an idiot for agreeing to take you on and vowed that I would keep you just long enough to save face before the rescue people, say one or two weeks, and then I would bring you back under some silly pretense, such as I-have-to-travel or My-mother-is-visiting-and-she’s-allergic-to-dogs or some other stupid thing.

But things went from there. The first time I took you to obedience, I had two leashes on you, one of them hooked into my belt, one of them on a prong collar, and you had a muzzle on, and you lunged and raged at the other dogs like a psycho so that I could only slink around the perimeter, apologizing constantly (“She’s a rescue dog; she’s not mine”) and couldn’t participate in any of the doggie activities.

And how to exercise you? In no way I could let you off leash. I would take you to the dog park at 2 in the morning when there were no other dogs and let you run and run and run in the dark. I would introduce you to one doggie friend at a time. Jethro became your first friend, and the two of you could run and play together and you would be safe with him. And soon, I could take you among the other dogs at the obedience school, and you could sniff butts and wag tails and meet and greet without too much drama. The prong collar ended up in a corner and we haven’t even seen it since. And so I kept pushing off the day when I would bring you back to the rescue, thinking all the time, “let’s see how much more she can improve”

I remember the exact moment when I realized that day would never come. It was that night when you hopped into my bed for the very first time and pressed your long warm back against mine and I felt your heart beat vibrate through the mattress. In the morning, I woke up with your big feet tangled all over me and you sighed in my ear and drooled on my neck and I got up and called the rescue and told them that there was no way on all earth I would ever give you up again. They were delighted to hear it. That’s how you became my dog.

When winter came, we tried out skijoring. It seemed a good way to get you exercised but still have you under some sort of control. I thought, “how hard can this be?”, put on my skis and hooked up the line. You took off like a nuclear missile. You laughed and ran and never looked back at your poor Mama, who was hanging on wide-eyed and screaming in terror, all sphincters clenched. It was early winter; there wasn’t much snow yet, and your Mama did about half of it on her knees and face, bumping over tussocks and roots and smashing into trees. When it was done, you were tired and happy, one ski was cracked, one ski pole snapped in half, Mama had a rip in her bottom from trying to put on the emergency brake and more bruises than if she’d been in a street fight. And we knew we’d found our calling.

My dear Pudden, you will be relieved to hear that there are no obligations associated with turning eight. However, on this forum and other places, you are now officially considered a “senior” golden. We will be expected to post fewer pictures of you jumping like a caffeinated jackrabbit, or digging mega-holes, or catching salmon with your bare teeth, and post more pictures of you sitting lady-like on the porch and squinting benignly into the sunset.

Pudden, I don’t know how many more years we have together. One day, you will die in my arms, but until then I vow to provide you with love, entertainment, two square meals a day, and as few rules as possible. In return, your job is to listen to your Mama, not to pick fights with large charismatic wildlife, and to come sleep in my bed every now and then and press your warm long back against mine, because that makes your old Mama so very, very happy.

Be joyful, my sweet, wild Pudden. I will love you forever.

Your Mama

 

[kay]

Re: My Pudden

Molch, this was by far one of the funniest reads I have had in a while!!! Thanks for posting.
Also, I'm such a sucker for heart-warming stories.... you almost had a tear going from me.

 

[Bellabelloo]

What wonderful stories.
I have been looking for a dog to join our household for nearly a year. The rescue centers have rejected me as my youngest child is deemed too young. Maybe they are right, but there was a time that it wouldn't be a problem. Anyway, one day I will have my hound.

Beautiful pictures of your dogs, love your painting of Pudden.

 

[kiathepooch]

Rescue dogs are the best!for less than quarter of the price(in some cases) of the "pedigree/fashion" dogs.

Just to reiterate the "some people should never be allowed dogs" thing,I've read so many things from people who shouldn't even be allowed near a dog,let alone own one,my biggest peeve is on a fb group where the answer to everything is "put it in a cage",your dogs chewing things up a week after you got it?cage it.it howls when you leave the house and is scratching the door?cage it.
How's about you train it,reassure it.ffs.
/rant

When my current rescue passes I shall be going to look for another to own me!

 

[AngieD]

Molch - the story about your dog makes our little psychotic dog sound quite chilled out

And Johnny - brilliant hearing about 'problem dogs' getting their lives turned around. More owners should be like you.

This might be slightly controversial but:
I have been saying for years that prospective dog owners should have to go on a short course before getting dogs to make sure they know what they're doing, and kids should be told how to approach dogs - I see kids too often running at a dog with their arms out and shouting in its face, breaking point for any naturally nervous dogs

 

[Azhael]

Ok, i fit here like an atheist in the vatican, since i not only dislike dogs but actively fear them (which i´m told is hilarious for bystanders), but i have to say both Johnny´s and Molch´s stories are indeed moving. I find it hard to sympathize to the same level as the people who love dogs...for example i look at El Chuy and i think "aaaaaaaw" but at the same time "if that thing touches me i´ll panic and kick it". However, as much as i would like to live in a dog-free environment, i´m not impermeable to the sad realities that affect dogs. I have heard numerous stories about and seen images of puppy mills and i was phisically disgusted. I also find that a surprising amount of dog keepers are to put it mildly...inmoral bastards... with no understanding of the dog´s nature or it´s requirements. If i was in charge i´d create a mandatory test for prospective owners with inspection of facilities and routine and a nice, shiny I.D. card if you pass.

I´ll never fully understand the dog-human relationship or feel such love and devotion to one, but when it´s genuine i admire it and it does make me a bit jealous. I saw a glipse of that kind of relationship when i had pet rats, but as brilliant as they are, they are not dogs.

 

[SludgeMunkey]

True fact:

I am not a dog person, especially little dogs. I am more of a cat/iguana/stuff that lives in tanks kind of guy. For me dogs were always hunting companions and nothing more.(We had rabbit and coon hounds growing up.) These little pugs (and in Chuy's case a pug mix) have really grown on me.

I joke with people that every time my wife speaks of having another kid, we get a pug instead.


Chuy is by far my favorite (though I really dig the other two!). He would probably be the perfect dog if the chihuahua in him didn't trigger the "I gotta pee everywhere all the time!" reaction. However, I have gotten very handy with a steam cleaner and he weighs 12 pounds so the wet spots he leaves are not much to clean up.
We traced Chuy's backstory as far as we could. He was bred by a puppy mill as a purse dog and was originally sold for 2000 dollars. (!!!) I read that idiots spend that kind of money on "designer dogs" every day. He got too big to fit in a purse, so his bimbo owner dumped him at the pound. He went through four homes in as many weeks before we got him.


Don't think I am against pure bred dogs or responsible breeders. I know there are a few responsible ones out there. They are rare, but they do exist.

Nor am I bashing folks that have/breed pure breds with "papers". Again, not all of them are nasty humans.


In truth, the holidays are kind of a bad time to add a new dog or cat to the family, but so many people do it, I like to remind folks that a good dog does not necessarily have papers or meet "breed standards". Good news is most all of them will keep your feet warm, beg for a belly rub when you are feeling down, and keep the kitchen free of scraps.





Since we are talking dogs, I have a few books I suggest you add on your Christmas Lists:

Merle's Door by Ted Kerasote
Insights in dog behavior and training framed around Mr. Kerasote's experiences with his first "real" dog. All written from the point of view of an outdoorsman. This book makes me cry. No joke. Great Read.

Inside of a Dog by Alexandra Horowitz
An ethological and physiological analysis of Canis lupis familiaris. Provides easy to digest insight into what makes a dog a dog and not four legged humans. Great read!

 

[SludgeMunkey]

Ok, i fit here like an atheist in the vatican, since i not only dislike dogs but actively fear them (which i´m told is hilarious for bystanders), but i have to say both Johnny´s and Molch´s stories are indeed moving. I find it hard to sympathize to the same level as the people who love dogs...for example i look at El Chuy and i think "aaaaaaaw" but at the same time "if that thing touches me i´ll panic and kick it". However, as much as i would like to live in a dog-free environment, i´m not impermeable to the sad realities that affect dogs. I have heard numerous stories about and seen images of puppy mills and i was phisically disgusted. I also find that a surprising amount of dog keepers are to put it mildly...inmoral bastards... with no understanding of the dog´s nature or it´s requirements. If i was in charge i´d create a mandatory test for prospective owners with inspection of facilities and routine and a nice, shiny I.D. card if you pass.

I´ll never fully understand the dog-human relationship or feel such love and devotion to one, but when it´s genuine i admire it and it does make me a bit jealous. I saw a glipse of that kind of relationship when i had pet rats, but as brilliant as they are, they are not dogs.

Don't feel bad. Dogs are not for everyone.

Myself, I am afraid of horse. Desperately, seizure inducing fear of horses. Now, imagine the hillbilly kid that passes out at the sight of horses. Now imagine that kid growing up on a farm...with horses...

 

[jewett]

I appreciate this thread.
I work in a small animal (dog/cat) veterinary practice and see things every day that anger, sadden, and disgust my co workers and myself. I love dogs and cats but I do not understand why so many of the people that come through my clinics doors have obtained these animals. It seems most of the clients we see are indifferent to the well fare of the pets they obtain, and as soon as those same animals reach a point of "too much work", "too obnoxious", or "not what I thought pet ownership would be" those pets are disposed of. I really like that my clinic does not participate in what we call "convenience euthanasia's" of young healthy dogs/cats but what is disturbing to me this time of year, when the holidays come around, the number of euthanasia's we perform every day on senior pets to make room for the new Christmas puppies and kittens, or because guests are coming over and the old furry friend just doesn't fit into the holiday decor. Another euthanasia? 'Tis the season...
I so wish that people did have to experience some level of preparedness or training before they could get pets, any pet, or make them go down to shelters and decide which healthy, happy animals should die to make room for the litter they are planning because for whatever reason they have it in their head that they want to breed or (and I don't know what is worse) spaying/neutering is superfluous and disfiguring, etc etc etc...
Oh, I could go on and on, but it seems that I am in sympathetic and like minded company. Thanks for helping to make people aware of this serious (to me, anyway) issue Johnny.
Heather

 

[Molch]

Ok, i fit here like an atheist in the vatican, since i not only dislike dogs but actively fear them (which i´m told is hilarious for bystanders).

for me, it's human babies. I wouldn't call it a phobia, since I don't run away screaming, but I find them squishy and unattractive and I don't want them to touch me with their sticky little fingers. I never wanted one, instead directed my mothering instincts at animals all my life.

That makes my kind of mutation supremely unfit in the Darwinian sense....



PS: Az, I think one day with the Pudden would cure you At the end of the day, you'd be her willing slave and frisbee-thrower, and have her fall asleep in your lap.

 

[Molch]

Last spring I adopted a second dog, Smoke.

He's an old gimpy husky who has been around town, always tied up outside and neglected. The Pudden and I used to borrow him for skijoring from his former owners, but nowadays he has arthritis and his joints hurt, so the neighbors gave him to us and he now lives inside on a big poofy bed by the stove and he gets glucosamine for his joints

He goes on small walks and hikes with us, but when the Pudden and I go on one of our epic skiing trips, he stays at home because he just wouldn't be able to keep up any more. I don't think he minds, though; he's so grateful now to have a home and not be tied up all alone outside in the cold anymore...

 

[SludgeMunkey]

I am still fighting the "old Dog" battle. I often see old timer's available on the rescue sites. No one seems to want old dogs. I would gladly adopt many of them, but we have a local ordinance that limits us to three dogs. We could legally foster them, but I know full well that any dog that comes to stay here, will stay here permanently. In the future, when I buy that house out in the boondocks I want so badly, we will be able to foster and perhaps even keep a few of the "unadoptables" I would very much love to fence off roughly an acre and create a "dog heaven"- that is lots of stuff to pee on, critters to bark at, and a few water features to drink from. We spent a ton of money improving our existing lot to make it pug friendly, but bigger dogs would easily escape and run the risk of the wrong end of a car.

I am glad to see so many folks agree, dog lovers or not.

Now, you must excuse me as Po-dog has decided to play keep away with my wife's Blackberry. (Mainly because her phone just called mine and all I heard was "snork snork snork snuffle snuffle snork" and she left it on the coffee table upstairs earlier....):tongue:

 

[Otterwoman]

Almost every cat and dog we've ever had in my family were rescued from the SPCA or from the side of the road. I think they know where they came from. They show you their appreciation for it every day of their lives.

 

[JacksonR]

Molch, that letter brought a couple of tears to my eyes.

 

[Azhael]

PS: Az, I think one day with the Pudden would cure you At the end of the day, you'd be her willing slave and frisbee-thrower, and have her fall asleep in your lap.

Sorry i had missed this, Molch xD. To be fair, it´s entirely possible. I´ve been able to tolerate and even touch and pet certain dogs, although the sense of misstrust never really disappears. I´m sure i´d be able to learn to tolerate the Pudden, but you´d be amazed to see my initial reaction If the Pudden got close to me or touched me, all colour would disappear from my face and i´d stand there with my eyes wide open, following her every move, and flaring nostrils, not moving a muscle until she moved a safe amount of metres away from me. And this is now as an adult....as a child i could easily go into a state of terror induced stupor.
Sorry to go on and on about it, but i find it really funny in a way because i was always the kid that had no fear whatsoever of snakes, scorpions, rats, toads....and yet dogs spark something in my brain physiology xD

 

[sheena22]

This is such a lovely story to read, there is no need to go and buy a lovely new puppy when youve all seen those gorgeous naughty things up there Even though they look cute I can see a naughty mischevious look in their eyes

Around here theres not such a problem with dogs in bad places, its cats. there are literally hundreds of cats in Portsmouth where I live that have been left to fend for themselves on the streets.

Ive never paid for a cat, my gorgeous naughty cat nettles was a rescue.

Found her in a bush with a litter tray ( I know) and a box of unopened cat biscuits, shes the loveliest naughtiest cat who ive ever known and probably the weirdest, whistle her for dinner, she loves paper and ripping it up, even notes of money

Saying that though I love dogs too, cant mix them with my cats as they are set in their ways, but if I had a big old farm and house I would go and get all the dogs/ cats that were old and tatty which no-one wanted.

That is my dream, I dont believe in 'bad' dogs, I agree dogs can be bad when treated badly but no animal has ever just gone bad on their own.

My nans dogs were rescue dogs and one was lovely to me and one would of chewed my head off given the chance, and why? Because they were in a family whos little kids strapped fireworks to them. Never blame the animal, its the lack of care they were given.

I wish every person who wanted an animal had to have a license, then it would stop impulse buys and bad treatment of animals.... at least in a few cases! Some people go to extreme levels to be cruel!

Love this post and all the pictures of the animals
xxxx

 

[vagus]

SludgeMunkey, I couldn't agree more! All our mammals have adopted from the HS or from owners who couldn't take care of them. Wouldn't trade any of them for the world. However I would happily bribe them for partial ownership of the couch again...