My life is great! Each new experience is wonderful! I live in a barn with my parents and brothers and sisters outside a town called Seattle in the state of Washington. I can't imagine anything more wonderful than being a dog! You get to roll around on the grass, sleep for hours, play with your brothers and sisters, snuggle next to mom, attempt to howl at the moon, eat until your tummy is full – this is the life!
We have a pond on our farm, too. This pond attracts ducks. Oh, how I love ducks! Ducks are my life! I used to just sit beside the pond and watch the ducks and their flapping wings – mesmerized. Then one day, my brother who was sitting beside me barked at them. Yes! Let's bark at the ducks! Bark! Bark! Bark! Mom came out and gave us a stern look and a growl after which we quieted down some, but I loved having an outside voice.
One day, men in dark suits with shiny badges came to our barn. They talked to the people who fed us every day. I tried to listen closely, but only caught a few words like "puppy mill" and "taking them away." Taking who away? What exactly was a puppy mill?
Suddenly, I was scooped up by one of the dark-suited men and placed in a cage. I don't like this, I whined. My brothers and sisters were in cages next to me. Then we were placed inside a van with red and blue lights on top. Where were we going? I'd heard about car rides before, but never actually been on one. I think it would be much more exciting if we were not in cages. My brothers and sisters were worried, too. We tried to console each other as best we could with licks, paw touches, and soft whines through the cage bars as the van started moving.
After what seemed like a long time, the van stopped. Would our mom and dad be here? Were we going to a bigger barn? Would there be a larger pond with more ducks? I was sort of excited about the possibilities.
The doors opened and I saw where we were – a large cinderblock building with no pond. It looked industrial, even though I'm not sure what that word meant. People exited from the building and took hold of the handles on top of our cages. They didn't seem excited to see us; almost like this was routine for them.
I was examined, given some injections in my neck – ouch – and then placed in a cage by myself. There was some generic dog food and water, along with a tattered blanket to sleep on. How am I supposed to sleep without my parents and my brothers and sisters nearby? What happens now?
I could see some other dogs across the large walkway – in cages as well. I wanted to growl at them, but now I'm just lonely and sad.