News Archives: Letter to a Puppy Mill: 2008-12-15

Please Note: Information in this archived article may no longer be accurate.

Warning: What follows is not for the squeamish.

Letter to a Negligent Puppy Mill Owner

To Whom It May Concern:

Last week, a little dog labeled “B4” made his way to my household via the Humane Society of Pulaski County (HSPC). B4 got his name because he was obtained through a puppy mill raid on your property. B represents the particular “raid” and 4 was the number assigned to him out of 54 animals seized on your land. Heroic efforts by law enforcement and animal cruelty investigators saved these animals who trusted you to take care of their basic needs — adequate shelter and food and water.

I took B4 to an adoption event a few weeks ago. I was late to pick up my dog for the event and grabbed the first animal in the lobby that was available for the trip. I scooped him up, loaded him in my car, and off we went. He didn't make a sound the whole ride over, and once we arrived, he was the star of the event. Everyone fell in love with B4! Another shelter volunteer said we quickly needed to give him a real name, and she suggested Timothy — a name that has stuck with him to this day. Here is a picture of Timothy and me at the adoption event:



Timothy didn't get adopted that day, but he sure won over some hearts. People noticed he only had one eye and that he stayed in my lap most of the time. Questions were asked — what happened to poor Timothy?

Timothy wasn't born without one eye and with no sight in the other. He was born a healthy puppy, doomed to a life in a cage in your puppy mill. While most people would have seen a wonderful dog that deserved a happy life, you saw dollar signs and confined him to a cage and a life of filth that ruined his eyes, but didn't break his spirit.

Two weeks after the adoption event, I met some friends at the HSPC to put in some volunteer time. Little Timothy was still there, and he was the first dog I played with that day. I carried him all over the shelter and out into the dog park for nearly two hours. I could hardly put him down. After I left that day, his plight weighed heavily in my mind, and I decided to go back to the shelter the next day and think about bringing him home to foster.

That was a week ago today. Timothy, the little blind dog, has lived for a week with a 40-pound Shepherd-mix and two terrier mixes. For the past few days, I've worked with Timothy to learn where things are in my house and how to find the things he needs like food and water. But what I have taught him doesn't remotely compare to what my dogs have taught him. When Timothy hesitates to take the final step out into the backyard, my little dog Zoe runs to his aid as if to say, “Follow me!” He follows her scent out into the yard where he is free from cages and confinement. And when he loses his way out in his big sea of grass, my dog Musby runs up to him and corrals him back in so he can get back to the door to come back inside. Timothy is learning from my three how to be a dog, something no human could ever teach him.

Timothy will never be able to see the huge yard he has to run in, nor will he ever be able to chase squirrels and leaves like my big Shepherd does. He will never be able to run freely without finally hitting an obstacle in his path. He is four years old, and only until this week did he even respond much to being held and petted — something you denied him his whole life. But Timothy is changing on a daily basis. He's safe and he is trusting. He fears little and he's determined to find his way. You may have stolen four years of his life, but he's got the rest of his ahead of him and at the rate he is running in my yard these days, I know there is no turning back for him.

Today I was horrified when, after more inquiries into Timothy's past, I was sent “evidence” photos taken the day Timothy was taken from you. Here they are.





Not much could have prepared me for what my eyes were seeing. Was this the same dog? Surely there was a mistake. No mistake, they told me, and the “B4” visible in the photos confirmed the facts. I asked myself how anyone could look themselves in the eye each day, knowing they had treated an innocent animal the way you treated Timothy. The pain and suffering you inflicted on him for the sake of making a fast buck is shameful. No life could be so unworthy as you must have believed Timothy's was, and certainly no life was worth destroying for nothing more than monetary gain.

In the eyes of the law in Arkansas, your treatment of Timothy may only be a misdemeanor, but in the eyes of humanity, your acts were deplorable. And while your case goes to trial and a judge decides your fate, a forgotten little dog who lived in a cage already knows his — a life of fine dining, extended play, hours at the doggie spa, lots of naps on a big soft bed and, above all else — a life free of cruelty and cages!

We must fight against the spirit of unconscious cruelty with which we treat the animals. Animals suffer as much as we do. True humanity does not allow us to impose such sufferings on them. It is our duty to make the whole world recognize it. Until we extend our circle of compassion to all living things, humanity will not find peace.

— Debra Wood
December 8, 2008

UPDATE: Soon after writing this article, I formally adopted Timothy. He's been a great addition to my "critter family," even recently finding his "bark," that I can't wait to hear when I come home from work. On December 30, 2008, he had to be rushed to the veterinarian's office to have his remaining eye removed. His surgery went well and he's expected to make a full recovery. Despite having lost both of his eyes, Timothy will still be able to run and play and see with his heart. He will lead a full and happy life surrounded by 3 dogs and 2 cats and many humans who will love him and who will continue to help him find his way.

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