We got my dog about 9 years ago. He is a wonderful dog, and the whole experience of getting him was excellent. I found a breeder of mixed breed dogs, because I have allergies and couldn’t risk getting a shelter pup of questionable lineage. Her dogs were actually cross-breeds, so both parents were purebred. I spoke several times on the phone with the breeder about our needs, the kind of dog that would fit in best with my family. She had several litters of mixed breed pups brewing, and most types were only available 2 or 3 times a year at most. It was a small, family-run breeding business and the puppies spent a lot of time with her family, making them well-socialized.
I sent photos of Phantom to her and a few became part of the website. I would peek back on periodically, and a few years ago noticed she had a LOT more puppies available, in a LOT of new mixes. Like, a LOT. This bothered me, as I knew when we got my dog the litters were housed in an area attached to her home where she also did grooming. I should have given it more thought than I did, but I didn’t.
Yesterday I tried to pull up the site to look for a photo of a specific mix, and the site was unavailable. This morning I did some digging. There were complaints that she was running a puppy mill, dating back to 2011 or so. The large numbers of available puppies apparently were a concern. There wasn’t any record of an “aha!” Investigation into her business, it appears people where making claims and asking her to provide photos of the building where the puppies were housed, and a claim that the family no longer lived on the property.
There were no new mentions of her, the website, her business or anthing after 2012. It appears she sold the whole thing to someone who went out of business last year. It probably didn’t help that even if the new owner was on the up and up, the old domain was listed on the web as a puppy mill.
I feel things went off the rails when they started to make money, and just kept adding more and more dogs, built a separate building for them, etc. I’m not convinced they run it like one of those horrid mills with wire cages, etc., (because nothing I’ve read says that was the case) but the only photos I ever saw were the old days. When the dogs were happy and playing with the family. I hope.
It is with heavy heart that Phantom Puppy LaFerriere announces the death and removal to a landfill of Baby, his beloved green dinosaur toy. Given to him by his human cousins for Christmas 2010, Baby was carried all over the house, one of the few toys to receive this level of love and attention. As ugly as the toy was, we had grown very attached to it simply because the dog loved it as much as he did.
Yesterday, Phantom’s mom made the horrifying misstep of mentioning how long the dinosaur had lasted, and within 10 minutes, the head was ripped open and fiberfill was flying.
We snuck it away from him and he actually spent 30 minutes HUNTING for the damned dino, and then actually seemed depressed about not finding it. Wouldn’t play fetch. We feel awful. Then again, we’re not the one who RIPPED IT’S HEAD OPEN WITH OUR SHARP DOG TEETH!
Due to Monday trash pickup, there are no calling hours.
I chased my dog around the back yard, offering him cash, fame and dog treats if he would just let me take a few photos of him. He agreed to a dog treat with some people food to be named later.
I have been lax in my writing. I will blame this on something external to myself, as usual. Today, I will blame being lax on a lack of high quality snack foods in my home. I will blame the lack of high quality snack foods on the fact that I detest grocery shopping and haven’t gone in a while. I will blame the lack of grocery shopping on getting paid only once a month. I will blame getting paid once a month on my employer. So the fact that I haven’t been writing is clearly the fault of The Man.
Based on a phone call I had with [Nameless Person] I am going to try to do better. I know that I can claim to be a “professional” author because of the thyroid-specific articles I have written for Thyroid-Info.com. But what happened to my excitement over the “new” book project that had me out registering domain names in the middle of the night? Lost that energy. So I was rethinking that book and I think I can tweak my approach slightly and still make it work. So I’m going to promise myself and everyone that I will have at least 500 words written by the end of the day Friday. And a minimum of another thousand by the end of the weekend. Of course, by writing that I will find 50 other things that just NEED to get done.
I have to wash my bedspread, for instance. It is covered with dog nose prints. I do not want to sleep with something that smells like a dog. (He probably doesn’t want it to smell like a human, but I have opposable thumbs so I win.) I don’t think it will fit in my washing machine, so I’ll have to actually leave the house to get this thing cleaned. Do you know how much work it’s going to be to get my ass to a laundromat? People, please! I’m only human.
Okay, off to find more coffee. These words aren’t just going to write themselves.
Something’s gotten into the dog. Maybe literally. I’m very very excited about this development, because now I’m going to be a day behind on stuff at work, plus I won’t get to do anything fun this weekend. My birthday weekend. He was on antibiotics but they ended Tuesday, so this is a little too far for it to be a direct result of that. I was actually thinking how great it was that he didn‘t get sick from the meds, as it was a stated side effect.
He is sitting on a towel on the other end of the couch. He isn’t looking at me. He looks so sad. Maybe he would have looked like that on a normal day. I know he’s mad at me because I had to take his food and water bowls away from him, per the vet. They want nothing going in for 12 hours. He just stood next to where the bowls are supposed to be and looked at me. And looked at me. I feel like such a creep, but doctor’s orders and all that.
I was hoping whatever it was worked its way out at the doggie daycare before I picked him up, but he yakked twice on the way out to the car. Maybe THAT was the last time. I hope. Please God, I have no desire to clean up this type of mess. ugh.