My Chihuahua

Posts Tagged ‘pet stores’

Do you know where puppies from pet stores come from? Well, those places are called puppy mills. A puppy mill is based in a bad environment. The dogs live in small wore mesh cages, with a little bit of water and only a small handful of food each day. When it is time for breeding, 2 related or poorly bred dogs are put in the cages together to breed. They breed until the dogs are about to die. And when the people don’t want the dogs anymore, they kill them.

I live in a puppy mill, and it is horrible. I am a mix of a Chihuahua and a pug, known as the Chug. I am a chocolate brown color. All of my brothers and sisters have already died. I’m the only one left, and the guy thinks it is time for me to start breeding, even at 2 months old!

He shoves me into a cage with a male beagle. We are bleeding from being beaten and in these horrid cages.

“We need to get out,” I say between yelps of pain. The beagle, Vince is my friend. My best friend, actually.

“Yeah.”

“I know, but how?” I ask. We just stay there.

“Tonight. I have a plan.”

“But it is night!” I say, and he nods.

“Exactly.”

When the horrid man has gone, we fight to get out. The cages are old and broken, so we get out easily, but with bloody mouths and paws. Other dogs and puppies bark as they see us leave. We run away so the man won’t come out.

The next morning we find ourselves in a bush. We hear men right by us. We stay in the bush to hear them.

“Can you believe it?” one man asks.

“I know. The pounds are going to start killing the pooches right when they get them. Just like puppy mills,” the other man babbles.

They leave after that, and so do we. There is an open field with tall grass, so I head for that, with Vince right behind me.

The field is gated for most parts. In the gated place, there is a playground. Kids are there, and they are yelling, running, and playing. Everyone is doing that, but one. That one person is a girl, a girl with chocolate hair and glasses. She is all alone, reading a book.

I accidentally bark, and she looks at me. “Hey there, little guy. Who do you belong to? And you too?” Vince is right by me.

The school bell rings. She looks at us. “Sorry, puppies. I have to go. Stay here!” she runs off. We obey and stay there.
“Do you think she will take us home?” Vince asks. We are rolling in the fields. I look at him, wondering the same thing.

“I don’t know.” It has been a half hour, and the same bell rings. Kids rush out of the building with their backpacks and friends. Some are holding water bottles and lunch boxes. Yum!

“Hey, puppies. Come here,” the girl says to us, holding out her hand. “Here, you guys look thirsty. She has 2 Dixie cups in her hand and a water bottle in the other. She pours the water. It is like Heaven. We lap it up quickly, and look at her for more. We wouldn’t dare talk to her.

She pours more. We lap it up again, and she scoops us up. “My name is Erika,” she says. She walks to a red car. “Look, Mom. Puppies. They are strays. I saw them at break. Mom look they are bleeding! We need to help them.”

“Okay, Erika. We will take them to the vet tomorrow, then to the pound,” the mom says, and she drives away with us. I squirm. So does Vince. The pound is going to kill us right when we get there! Vince feels the same.

We arrive at the house, and it is magnificent. It is yellow with white trim and a white door. Erika picks us up again, and says, “This will be your makeshift home for now. Tomorrow we will take you to the pound. Somebody will adopt you.”

I have a shrill look on my face. When we are in the kitchen, she gets two plastic bowls down from a cabinet and pours some cereal into them. We eat reluctantly. It is delicious! She pours more water.

When she takes us up to her room, all we could do was stare. Her room was a dream comes true. All the walls are pink, except for one. One is a nook-slanted wall, and it is striped. One was pink, one was white, and one was green. Her bed is by that wall. She has her nightstand by her bed, her dresser against the wall right across, her closet to the left of her stripe wall, and her desk in the left side of the stripe wall.

She pulls out a few blankets and four pillows from her closet. She puts a blanket on the ground, and puts the 4 pillows surrounding the blanket. Next she puts us in there, and covers us with another 2 blankets.

We couldn’t let her take us to the pound. It would be the end of our lives! I yelp, and she looks at me.
“What, puppy?” Erika asks. She is in her bed, reading her book. Her hair is in a ponytail. I needed to speak, and Vince understood what I was going to do.

I jumped out of the bed. “Don’t get freaked out.” She dropped her book. I spoke more. “Before we saw you at your school, we heard some people talking. The pounds will kill dogs right when they arrive. You can’t take us!”