[ SHOWGSD-L ] THE RUNT (born in a puppy mill)
- From: Barbara Galasso <uwish@xxxxxxxxxx>
- To: showgsd-l@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sun, 18 Dec 2005 18:59:44 -0500
THE RUNT
(born in a puppy mill)
by
Barbara J. Galasso
There were only four German Shepherd pups born on that cold, wintery
night. The mother had a difficult time whelping this small litter for
she was old and underweight with just barely enough skin to cover her
fragile bones. She had had a litter every season since she was 15
months old. With barely enough rest in between before the next, the
years had taken it's toll on her. She laid in the wooden box with the
shredded up papers to keep her company as she awaited the new life she
was bringing forth in the world. With each pup, she struggled and
labored until the last of them was born. She didn't even raise her head
to acknowledge the last little pup as it whimpered and searched for a
place to lay close to the warmth of her mothers body. She was half the
size of her litter mates, and it took all her strength to find a place
to suckle the warm sweet liquid of her mother's milk. The other pups
were more greedy than this little girl, and so they shoved and pushed
her out of the way to make sure they got more than their share. The
little pup whimpered and her mother turned and gave her a single lick
and then pushed her aside too tired to attend to her puppy's needs.
The breeder comes into the room to take a head count. "One, two, three,
and what's this," she says as she looks at the fourth puppy, the little
runt laying in the corner by herself. "That's nice Brandy," she says to
the mother. You give me four puppies and one of them is a runt. What
good is this puppy going to be for me? No body is going to want her,"
she says, as the mother lays her head back down too tired to care.
"Nope, no money will be made on this litter. That's it for you Brandy,"
she tells the old girl. "Your breeding days are over. You're no good
to me anymore."
She picks the runt up and looks at her and says, "I should take you and
drown you right now," but even if I can get a few hundred bucks for you,
it'll be better than nothing. I need every penny I can get." She
places her next to her mother to nurse and tells her, "you better start
growing and putting some weight on if you want to see the break of
day." The little runt finally gets her chance to steal a drink of her
mother's milk for her litter mates are finished and asleep by now. When
she too is finished, she falls fast asleep wrapped up in the warmth and
safety of her mother's fur.
Eight weeks go by and the puppies are old enough to sell. No one knew
what became of their mother Brandy. As soon as they were old enough to
be weaned, she was never seen again. There were three boys and one
girl. They always picked on her and she tried to hold her own with
them. She never backed down. What she lacked in size, she made up for
in bravery. But no matter how brave she was, she was still no match for
her much bigger siblings. The beatings she took from them left her with
scratches and bite marks that were sure to leave her scarred. But it
was her little heart that was scarred even more for she missed the
security of her mothers touch.
Dogs are tied to trees with chains no longer than ten feet long, with
buckets of muddy water to quench their thirst. Dried up kibble is
thrown on the ground where dogs that are tied up too close together
fight for every morsel of food that might roll their way. Flies play
havoc with their eyes and ears until they turn raw and the dogs give up
fighting with them because it hurts too much to scratch the oozing sores.
One by one each pup is sold and the runt is left behind. No one wants
her when they see her next to her litter mates. "She's too small, she
doesn't have enough bone, she's not strong enough," are some of the
comments heard by the people who come to the dirty run down kennel. The
breeder grows less and less impatient with her as one by one another
person turns her down. She takes a broom to her and scoots her back
into the dirty run when the last of the visitors leave. "Your days are
numbered dog," she says as she walks away in a huff.
And then one day, she forgets to close one of the pens, and when the
dark descends upon the kennel, the little runt escapes and wanders down
the road in a dark and uninviting night. She hears strange noises;
coyotes howling, owls hooting, she sees deer jumping through the meadows
and raccoons salvaging for food. She never saw these kinds of animals
before and when she hears the hiss of a rattle snake, she runs so fast
she stumbles and falls into a small brook where she laps up the cool,
clean fresh water with glee. She shivers and rolls herself into a ball
by a big old tree and lays there till the morning welcomes her with a
sun kissed sky.
She frolics in the tall grasses and picks up sticks and runs and tumbles
and plays. It's the first time she's experiencing what it's like to be
a puppy. But as the gray clouds of evening roll in, and the gentle
breezes of day turn into cool nightly winds, the puppy finds herself
laying by the tree again falling asleep with an empty belly. She longs
and cries out for the reassuring comfort from her mother that she only
knew for a few short weeks. She misses the smell of her mothers warm
fur and falls asleep with a heart filled with longing.
The next morning the puppy awakes with a startle as she hears the sound
of a boy and his father fishing further down the brook. At first the
puppy is frightened and it's first inclination is to run and hide; her
trust in people having been shattered. But there is something different
about the boy and his father, something warm and kind. She takes a few
cautious steps forward, and then thinks better of it and retreats back
into the tall grasses a few feet away from her. Just then the pup hears
a silent voice say, " the runt was left to wilt most of it's life and
like a weed it goes unnoticed. And then one day the bud struggles to
open and thrive and God whispers, "grow, for I never intended for you to
be a weed. I intended for you to be a flower." And with that the puppy
takes a few steps out of it's hiding place in the grass and starts to
walk towards the friendly voices of the boy and father. And then with
the bravery she displayed as a younger pup, she pushs forward and starts
to run ever closer to the kind people. She has found her family who
will nourish and love her even if she is a little runt, for they will
teach her as her mother would have to grow and flourish and to stand on
her own. For runt or not, her mother, who she had known for such a
short time, already gave her the best thing she could. She gave her in
the heart of a German Shepherd.
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