Zeus

Hi,

I'm Zeus, and my mom and dad rescued me. I was living at a puppy mill, and the owner wasn't making money selling dogs, so she was persuaded to give up her dogs. I was about 10 months old and had never lived in a home before, just in a kennel. What a difference!

Mom calls me an "instigator" because I'm always trying to get the other dogs to play with me by nipping heels and ears. I like playing with the small ones, like Zia and Linus and Rerun.

Dad says my father must have been an armadillo because I have such a long, skinny nose and hardly and chin. He has such a sense of humor!

Seriously, I told you I was raised in a puppy mill, and I need to tell you about them.

Responsibly breeders use only proper bloodlines, and guarantee their puppies. Puppies are usually not sold before they are four months old, because they need this time for proper socialization with their mother and littler mates. During this time the breeder can determine which ones may be of show quality and which ones are pets.

Puppy mill breeders often sell their puppies at six to eight weeks of age, barely weaned and able to eat commercial food. Sales usually take place on public property such as flea markets and in front of grocery stores, where buyers cannot see the parents or the conditions under which they were raised. Should genetic deformities become apparent, or other medical conditions, the sellers are long gone.

Conversely, these buyers are often "impulse" buyers, who see a cute puppy and decide on the spur of the moment, to buy it. Little thought is given to a growing puppy's needs and when the puppy outgrows the "cute puppy" stage, it often ends up in a shelter or abandoned on the street.

But I was lucky.

Zues

The Hoarding Horror

Earlier this week my husband and I assisted in rescuing dogs from a hoarder. This is the first time we had been involved a situation such as this, and have come away from it a firm resolve do what we can to educate people to recognize hoarding situations and promote bettter laws and help for people who have the compulsion to hoard.

Simply put, hoarders are people who collect large numbers of pets, cannot provide the for the basic needs of those pets, such as food, water, shelter, sanitary living conditions and veterinary care, and do not recognize there is a problem with the living conditions of these animals. Hoarders are willing to live in the same filthy conditions as the pets they are hoarding.

Hoarding has been described as a mental illness that progresses over time. It is a pathological desire to acquire animals and control them.

Often when animals are removed from a home, the owners will acquire new animals and the situation is repeated.

The cost to the public to prosecute hoarders is considerable. Local animal control must seize the animals, and those in such poor condition they cannot be saved are euthanized, those needing veterinary care receive it, all must be boarded until the case is heard. Tax dollars pay all expenses, including court costs. Often hoarders do not have the funds to pay any expenses, including fines.

THEN THEY REPEAT THE HOARDING OFFENSES! Many hoarders will simply move to another location and within weeks are "collecting" animals again.

What can we do to stop haording? We can recognize hoarders and report them to the authorities, and here we must recognize that the authorities may be less than enthusiastic in following up on these reports, given the time, cost and the ability for hoarders to repeat the offenses. Keep reporting!

Ask for animal control ordinances that allow for follow up visits with the hoarders in order to keep them from repeating the offense.

Ask for intervention/counselling for the hoarders in order to stop the behavior.

Get involved with local humane societies and rescue groups.

Fuzzy Wuzzy's Tale

Dad says I look like a bottle brush with legs. I resemble that remark.
My story? Well, it ended well, but it was a rather rocky beginning. I was taken to the shelter as a puppy, and adopted by someone who took me back to the shelter. I don't know why, because I was only a puppy. Another lady took me from the shelter but couldn't keep me, so she gave me to another lady. This lady had a large min pin who kept trying to fight with me, so she advertised me "free to a good home".
Mom and dad came to get me, and I know they will keep me. I've been here almost two years, and they know all my tricks, and they still love me. I love them, too.

The Big Guy Talks

I've got a story to tell; just because I'm the biggest dog here, some of the others think I'm different, and maybe not as smart as they are.

My first owners bought me from a "back yard breeder" who was selling us in the Wal Mart parking lot. They said I was a chihauhua, but I'm not.

The guy was in the military, so he was away a lot, so the lady had to take care of me, and she had two little kids under the age of 3, so she didn't have time for me. To this day, I cannot stand the screeching little voices of children, and their sticky, probing little hands.

Well, the inevitable happened: they were transferred, and decided they couldn't take me along. Fortunately, the contacted the vet to try to find a home for me. One of the techs at the clinic called my new parents, because they knew these people rescued chi's. Notice, no one recognized I wasn't a chihauhua.

My new parents took me home and kept me. I don't know if I fit in because I'm 18 pounds, and the rest are so much smaller, but we all get along. My mom and dad have taken me to doggie training classes, so I know how to walk on a leash, sit, wait, and all those things they teach good doggies.

I'm a good dog.

Matriarch Zarra has a Turn

I'm Zarra, and I appreciate my turn to "talk" because I'm voiceless. Sometime in my past someone cut my vocal cords, so I can only make a few sounds.

The vet estimates that I'm about 10 years old; that makes me the oldest of the herd.

I was rescued from a hoarder in New Mexico about three years ago, and came to Border Animal Rescue (BAR) and that's where my parents found me. Life is heaven here compared to the hoarder's place. I was kept mostly in a wire kennel, and my toes are deformed because of it. I also had many, many puppies. I'm so glad there are good people that rescuse dogs like me from bad places like that.

I help mom groom some of the other dogs, and my favorite place to sleep and watch the world to by is my bed on the top of mom's sewing machine. I'm happy.

Hi,

I'm Zola, and as you can see from the video, I'm the beautiful blonde chi, and you can see I'm the one with the impeccable manners. Zinnia posted a cute picture several weeks ago, but you can easily see her manners don't go with the picture.

But we're talking about ME!

I have a sad story with a wonderful ending. I was born and partially raised in a puppy mill on the border. The horrid lady who kept us had to give up some of her dogs, and I was one that was given up. The people who picked me didn't know I was pregnant already; I was about a year old.

When I had my three puppies, one died and one was born deaf. The people who I thought loved me wanted to SELL me and keep the puppies!

My mom and dad came to get me, and they've kept me. I know I can stay here forever. They had that medical procedure taken care of, so there won't be any more puppies, and I get spa treatements (Editor's note: baths) and in the summer I can lounge by the pool.

Life is good.

Zack's Dangerous Adventure

Zack here. Let me tell you about my close call on Wednesday morning. As usual, dad and I walked down the driveway to get the morning paper. But wait! there in the driveway was the biggest javalina I've ever seen. He must have weighed 500 pounds! I tried to tell him to leave, but apparently he took exception to my barking, because he came after me. Man, that sucker was fast. I hadn't stopped barking when he TUSKED me! I thought I was a goner.

Dad yelled at him, and threw gravel, but the damage was done. His tusk entered above my rib cage and came out below my shoulder.

Dad took me to the vet and Dr. Ioska said she'd seen worse, but that wasn't too comforting. She cleaned the wound and put in that terrible drain and gave me some really good pain killers. On Monday I will go see her again to have the drain removed and some more stitches. I wonder if I need plastic surgery....

(Editor's note: Javalina (havaleena) range from Arizona to Argentina, and can weigh up to 80 pounds. They will eat almost anything, but prefer native vegetation, especially prickly pear cactus. They are not pigs, but collared peccaries.)