For 5 years she was nothing but a factory, being forcefully impregnated, often tied down on her back, churning out litter after litter of puppies, only to have them taken away from her sooner than they should have been. She lived in a chicken coop, never knowing the feel of the grass or snow on her feet, only metal and its range of temperatures. Even when she had to go to the bathroom, she was not let out of that coop. She was forced to try her best to go outside, or go straight down, so her waste would fall on the other dogs through the roof of their coops. Her coop was one of many, crammed one on top of the other like a sick game of Tetris. All she got for food was the occasional table scrap here and there. Her water, if she was given any, was most likely stagnant.
She was lucky though. Her owner called the dog warden and said, "If you don't take these dogs, I will shoot them". Animal rescue teams went and saved her and 59 others from that place, with 25 coming to a shelter in Pittsburgh, and the remaining being split between two shelters further east in Pennsylvania.
The real kicker of this story is the fact that, due to Pennsylvania's lax laws regarding puppy mills/CBFs (commercial breeding facilities), the place that she came from is only one of many like it. Worst of all, these places are perfectly legal, providing that they adhere to lax standards.
Back to our nameless friend and her 24 companions, all of whom came to the shelter stinking of urine and feces, overgrown and matted beyond imagination. For those who may not know, a "mat" is very similar to a knot in a human hair, except for the fact that it just further twists and tightens, eventually causing the animal pain. I met them as scared, sad balls of fur, who would do nothing but stare at the walls and shake, peeing out of fear if they were touched, let alone if a leash were put on them. After various times just sitting, talking to these balls of fluff, some of us volunteers were able to get these creatures outside. When it snowed, the two smallest dogs of the group barreled into the snowbank, causing the volunteer quite a fright, only to come back out with a grin that said, "Can I go again???".
Several months later, after countless medical issues were solved and the behavioral issues were made as good as they could be, many of the dogs got adopted into homes. They found peace after all of their hard years in the mill. One of the last ones to get adopted was the hero of our story, now known as Clover, has an affinity for paper products. She does not like the past, as now she has a fluffy bed, plenty of treats, and plenty of butt rubs, but she wants her story to be told.
Why? Because her story is all too common. And that needs to change.