It's lonely here in prison. I dream of sun of fields. I saw them from a window once but I don't know how they feel.
I've never known a caress, a friend, a bone, a toy. I'd happily companion a human girl or boy.
But some men have decided with selfishness and greed that my fate shall be in a cage and for my keep I'll breed.
What shall fuel this folly? My kind may bark in vain. We care not for your commerce and few know of our pain.
We're hidden well from justice for our freedom same may cry.
God grant me, please, just one request. Let me play once before I die.
May these people rot. I see the outcome of their cruelty daily. I cannot look at Bela and not remember how she was when I got her from rescue - afraid to look any human in the face, flinching from any human touch. Her sweet Sheltie spirit almost crushed to death.
It just shows how resilient the canine spirit truly is - that she now can look me in the face, and actually be glad to see me when I've been gone for a few minutes. That she doesn't flinch whenever she feels a hand on her. That she now sucks up being petted like a thirsty sponge and cuddles up close to watch tv with me.
But in some things, I fear, she will always show some quirks of her unhapppy puppy mill years. She won't eat or drink unless she has complete privacy (if you look at her, she'll slink away). She does not bark - she is completely silent (except for some exceedingly unladylike burps). Her beautiful Sheltie-flag, her white-tipped tail does not wave happily. It merely lies still or is tucked up underneath as if she is ashamed of it. She does not know what toys are for or how to play. She trembles at any unusual sound and hides under the bed at thunder. When anything unusual is going on in the house, she runs for her crate in fear.
Someday, maybe her tail will wag, and she'll give me one of those beautific Sheltie smiles. I won't give up on her. She has already come so far in three months. But even if she never improves another lick, she'll still be my baby girl, my constant companion, my valued friend.
I wish the puppy mill people could just experience 24 hours of the fear that Bela had when she came to live with me. Just 24 hours to experience that, knowing the reason why. This is not "just a dog" you are providing for - yes, food, water, medical care are all important. But what you don't realize is that the neglect and lack of social contact you inflict on these sensitive creatures is a far worse hell sometimes than any physical deprivation. You are not just breeding dogs in this manner - you are breeding pure, unadulterated, reasonless, unfanthomable fear.
