Eleanor Wolf – Dog Beautiful

August 27, 2015 at 5:12 am

Eleanor (1)-smDOG BEAUTIFUL

Written by Bridget Wolf as Eleanor Wolf

Please do not define me by my now iridescent muzzle, namely sporting hints of grey and silver.  Mom calls it distinguished-multi-colored face art.  These days my eyes are a tad bit droopier than in prior years.  I have progressive hearing loss and a few missing teeth.  I’m lower on energy these days and I sleep longer.  I was once defined as a blunder you might say.  Some called me a mistake.

Define me now by my spirit.  In me abides the spirit and heart of the dog, ever-strong and descending from the wolf.  I am unbreakable.  I don’t yield, nor do I surrender.  I have a story, and while sad, my story is one of inspiration, of overcoming, of courage and strength, of resilience, and mostly of hope, because I am a mill dog survivor.  I was a breeder.   My gentle humans now call me by a name, it’s Eleanor.  A lovely ring to it, no?  Here is a “tail” to ponder.

A mere number at one time is what many of us are.  Mill dogs have a bleak existence.  We’re perplexed and bewildered because our existence doesn’t make any sense.  Dogs should not be caged and confined in tiny, unloving prisons.  The dog is made to hunt, to run, to play, to teach, and to love.  My mom says that even if I was a number that she’s sure I must have been a most beautiful number.  She reminds me where one may see little value another sees a treasure.

There are many of us at the mills with little room to move.  There can be hundreds of cages.  They are painful, heartless, abodes with cages on top, below, and beside us.  Urine or feces may drop on us from the cages above.  There’s no place to lay our heads down and no soft spot to lay our weary bodies.  We aren’t let out and we don’t usually know a kind hand.  It’s either too cold or too hot as we’re out in the elements, and others have their prison in darkness 24 hours of each day in cellars or similar.  There is no escape.  We don’t know what being a dog is.  We aren’t healthy and food is without nutrition.  We drink out of rabbit waterers which is why many of us have tooth and gum rot.  We long to feel grass on our feet, yet once we are given an opportunity if lucky enough to be rescued, that experience can be terrifying to us as is many normal life experiences.  We long to trust but don’t know how because we are hurt and broken.  Those that use us say we are good for only one thing, having babies, while mere babes ourselves.  When we became old and tired we still made more babies.  I made babies for ten long, hard years.  Many of us go without any veterinary care and many die an early and painful death.  If we are good breeders and earn a lot of money for our breeders we may just postpone the agony by a longer life, eventually when we are no longer able to breed we are disposed of.

I think back and remember my longing to run, jump, and kick up my heels on almost every single day.  The reality was my cage was confining, cramped, closing in on me a bit more every day.  After a spell that yearning for life and the panics of claustrophobia merged into a complacent lifeless acceptance, dreams replaced an aseptic existence.  After my many years of being a breeder I became ill, I began to lose my health and my energy.  I grew tired and I grew sad.  My body hurt from lumps and my teeth hurt so much that eating was no longer important to me.  I had become old and tired after 10 years of my precious babies being ripped from me to be sold in pet stores or online, and my time was near.  I remember wondering “God are you still with me?”  I knew that I wasn’t beautiful enough or perfect enough to be anything but what I was, a baby producer.  I tried hard to be more beautiful but no one stopped at my cage long enough to really notice I guess.  I knew one thing, I was a good mama to my pups, even when I had little energy left, I nursed, cared, and loved them.

I heard some made it to the rescue van.  I wondered if I would.  Paws crossed!  I’d heard there were angels inside.  And so it was, my time had come.  I would make it out alive.  When National Mill Dog Rescue loaded me up I was both scared and apprehensive and I prayed for those left behind.

Beautiful fields and mountains appeared and the air was fresh.  It was a long journey but we arrived at my haven.  Lily’s Haven to be exact.  Named after the very first mill rescue by NMDR a few years prior.  Lily passed on since but an inspiration most definitely, and I have a sneaking suspicion she’s still with us at her haven.  I learned at the haven that human hands don’t need to hurt rather they can love and comfort me.  I even got bubble baths and doctors to help me heal.  I began to feel that urge again to run, jump, and oh my I got a soft bed too!  Soon I began to feel special and like I really did matter, and no more babies.  This ol’ girl was on holiday!  It would soon be time for my own forever story.  I had dreamt of it often.

Eleanor (2)-smThey came for me one beautiful spring afternoon.  They called me a princess.  Princess Eleanor!  They must have thought I was beautiful.  Oh my how I loved it at my home and I felt safe when mom put my ever so soft bed next to hers at night.  I had the best food, clothes, play yard too, and life was now defined by comfort, pampering, love and fun.  Mom takes me to work where I am loved by all!!!  We are so thankful for me that mom and I continue to spread awareness about puppy mills and tell people, ”NO! Don’t buy that pet shop puppy! Don’t buy a puppy online!”  Sadly many still don’t know where those cute little pups come from or about the horrors of puppy mills.  I get to go to fairs and events where, let’s face it, I really am ever so cute and get many pets from hundreds of humans!  I am now proudly an ambassador dog for National Mill Dog Rescue.  Oh my, can you believe it, I have learned what it’s like to be a dog?  Mom says I have a special smile and that I have a gift of making others smile as well.  She says it’s because I am filled with a unique joy and have the gift of a beautiful spirit.  Mom says my beauty is immeasurable and this world is lucky to have me. She says a dog doesn’t have to try to be special or beautiful because we already are perfect.  Mom calls me God’s perfection.  Please consider adoption!

You can follow my adventures on my Facebook page, Princess Eleanor, princess with a purpose at: www.facebook.com/princesseleanorwithpurpose

If you would like to adopt a perfect friend or learn more about puppy mill dogs, please visit National Mill Dog Rescue at: www.milldogrescue.org