Self Expression Magazine

The Sad Tale of a Wagging Tail

Posted on the 07 October 2011 by Bvulcanius @BVulcanius

WARNING!!! This post contains (potentially) disturbing imagery. If you’re under 16, don’t read on. If you’re easily affected, don’t read on.

I am chasing a red and yellow leaf through the green grass in the backyard; I just arrived here two days ago. I had a new pack with two small ones and two big ones. The small ones constantly wanted to play with me and give me cuddles, and often the big ones had to come up to them and tell them to let me rest for a bit, because I was just a baby.

So, I’m chasing this leaf through the backyard, when suddenly there’s another big one there whose smell I don’t recognize. I’m curious and want to play, so I walk up to him with my ears back and my tail wagging. He kneels and calls for me, I run a little faster into his arms. Then he picks me up, and suddenly I’m not in the back yard anymore. We get into one of those moving things, like the one my pack brought me home in. I don’t like the way the thing moves very much, but the big one is holding me in his lap and that makes me feel safe. I relax and doze a little, and before I know it, the moving has stopped and we’re getting out.

I can hear lots of barking and howling and growling, and it doesn’t sound playful or happy; it sounds fearful and sad. I’m on edge, what’s going on here? And where is my pack? He takes off my collar and throws it back into the moving thing. It is replaced by a rope. It’s not as comfortable as the collar, but I’ll get used to it. I’m a bit keyed up, too, and I hope we’re going for a walk. I really need to pee after all this excitement.

When we start our walk, I’m clearly not allowed to sniff the grass or the earth or the trees. The big one pulls me along, and my neck is starting to burn a bit. I’m hoping that when we get back to the moving thing, he’ll put my old collar back on. I think that one’s a lot nicer.

We are approaching an enormous thing, which kind of looks like a moving thing, but way bigger. You can see inside it and there are loads of boxes in there. A lot of the barking, howling, and growling is coming from those boxes. What are they doing in there? Why would you want to be in a small box, just go out.

The big one is handing the rope over to another big one. This one is really big and has a lot of hair on his face. The hairy one gives my big one some paper in his hands. My big one turns around and walks away. Before I know it, I’m barking for him to come back. He’s not listening, so I start to whine to get his attention. It’s not working, and before I know it, he’s gotten into the moving thing and gone away. He took my leather collar.

The hair guy gets me by the scruff and swings me inside the big moving thing. Another big one opens one of the boxes and tugs at me. I curl my paws into the floor, but the big one is much too strong. All of a sudden, I’m in the box and he’s closing the door. There’s not much light coming through, and I’m confused. Curling up into the smallest ball I can manage, I carefully watch from a corner of the box. I still haven’t peed, and I really need to go. I’m not going to soil the place I have to lie in, so I’ll just have to wait. Suddenly the moving thing gets really dark and the moving starts. Some of the dogs are still whining and barking, but most of them are quiet, like me.

The moving stops just as suddenly as it started. There’s light again and I can see the hairy big one inside the moving thing, opening up box after box and getting the dogs out. Before I know it, I’m out, and the smell that hits me is terrible. It smells like disease and even a bit of death. The hairy one hands my rope to yet another big one, who leads me to a giant wooden tub. I’m wagging my tail and looking up at him to get his attention, but he doesn’t notice it. I’ll just have to try harder, I think, so I jump up his leg. His hand comes down on the side of my head so hard I don’t know which way is up. I don’t think he likes being jumped on. The rope around my neck receives a giant pull and I’m flying through the air and end up head first in the tub filled with some kind of water. It stings my eyes and it’s so cold. When I suck in a giant breath, my throat hurts and my nostrils burn. He pulls me up again by my rope, and the last thing I can remember is that it’s freezing.

I wake up on a floor that’s not nearly as nice and soft as it was at my pack’s place. I stand up quickly, once I notice I’m lying in my own pee. There are two other dogs, huddled in a corner. One of them has an eye that’s as red as the moving thing I came here in. I’m thirsty, so I look around for a bowl. When I find it, it’s empty.  There’s a big one coming our way and I’m smelling food on him. This makes me elated, because I’m hungry, too. I wag my tail like crazy and jump up against the fence. The big one puts his hand in a big bag of food and throws the food in, scattering it across the dirty floor. I scramble to find some unsoiled food. I’m so happy when I find some, that I don’t notice the dog with the red eye jumping on me and putting his teeth everywhere he can reach. I cry and cry for the big one to help me, but he never comes.

I don’t know how much time has passed before I feel a big one’s hands on my head. I whine, because it hurts everywhere. He looks me in the eyes and I feel my eyes twitch. The big one turns around and says something to another big one. He grabs me by the scruff of my neck and lifts me up. I howl, because my legs, my tail, my stomach, my back, they all hurt.  I start to pee, and this makes the big one holding me really angry. He shakes me, and I howl again.

He puts me on the grass, but I can’t stand up. The other big one hands him a stick, and I can’t help but wag my tail, because I really would like to play. If only I could stand up. The big one is holding the long stick between my eyes. Are you going to throw it, so I can try and get it for you? is the last thought I have.

~∞~

Cruelty to animals and dogs in particular, is a red zone for me. I cannot imagine someone wanting to hurt a dog – a creature that gives endless trust, loyalty and love. I watched another HBO documentary today called Dealing Dogs. “Pete”, from Last Chance for Animals, infiltrated a class B dog dealer called Martin Creek for six months to get unquestionable evidence on the abuse and mistreatment of dogs that were kept there. The collected evidence was meant to open a case against the owners of Martin Creek.

This documentary is not for the faint-hearted, and I’m not ashamed to say it made me cry and my stomach turn. It is also an eye opener. These dogs at a class B dog dealer are bought from so-called bunchers and mostly they aren’t asked about where they got the dogs they’re selling. Sometimes these dogs are stolen from their owners or dogs that had run away and were picked up without any intention of trying to contact the owners. The class B dog dealer buys these dogs from bunchers for about $20. The dealer then sells the dogs to universities and research labs for ten times as much. However, before they’re sold, they have to live under horrific circumstances and are subjected to monstrous maltreatment.

It took over a year after the collected evidence was brought to court before Martin Creek was finally closed down and over one hundred dogs were taken from there. Even though I saw lot of terrible things in the undercover footage in the documentary, the moment that made me the saddest was when the dogs that were saved were being bathed and brought into another animal shelter. There was this black Labrador who just stood meekly in the bathing space, letting himself be shampooed and washed and dried, like the trusting dog he is. When it was put into the truck to be taken to the shelter, you see him wagging his tail with such enthusiasm it broke my heart.

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