Tails: It’s our choices that define us

Whether it be the way we live our life or the simple way we react to a sudden situation – what we do says a lot about who we are.

I guess yesterday I was crazy.

There are a lot of people in my life – who know me well enough – who could have just read that sentence and not even paused for reflection. I am crazy – much of the time.

But yesterday, I knew in my heart – I was not THE crazy one.

So, I am walking into my vet’s office – more like a taj mahal - one that I like to think I helped build through my 3 ferrets, two hamsters, 7 cats, and 12 dogs – but none the less I was walking in to get some special food for my ever special dogs when I walked in with a woman who had to Italian Greyhounds.

Any animal would have gotten my attention. I love them all… but the IG breed holds a special place in my heart because a dear friend of mine does IG rescue… not just partakes in IG rescue – but leads it – is passionate about it. She was my very first real friend at my very first dog auction – and well, because of that – I will always think of Carol fondly and with respect.

Anyway, so I am walking in with this woman who has two IG’s… when we get into the lobby – I courteously confirm that they are IG’s and then proud as a peacock offer up that I have a good friend who does IG rescue.

Here’s the thing… while I know that a lot of people buy their dogs from breeders, or, god forbid, pet stores.. I try to maintain my own selfish point of view that all dogs have been rescued.

I really believed in my heart that when my conversation with this woman would come to an end – we would realize that we both knew Carol… that Carol actually participated in working out the adoptions.

It’s a perfect little fantasy world – one I like to call my own.

I have struggled ever since getting involved in puppy mill rescue with asking people where they got their dog. Because, when they tell me a pet store – I want to smack them and then I want to run down the street screaming and finally fall into a lump on the curb balling my eyes out. I have learned in the last 3 years – to stop asking – to stop torturing myself.

But, every now and then – I fall prey to my best intentions. This would be one of those times.

No, this woman did not rescue her dogs… In fact, she thought the idea of rescue in general was wasteful. No, she was about as far from rescue as she could be – she was a…. BREEDER. – And she said it as though neither her shit or her two innocent dogs’ shit didn’t smell.

I know the letters B-R-E-E-D-E-R don’t resemble any of the common four letter words we all despise. Dog breeders, to me, are like bumble bees to everyone else. Deep down we know they have their place in the world – but on a daily basis they just seem to irritate us.

She was a breeder alright. The attitude, the prance of her dogs – and the lash of her tongue – because what came out next actually took me off guard.

Here I am standing in my bright green sweatshirt that reads “Find love – ADOPT” with a big dog on it and she says, “You know who is absolutely crazy – “those idiots” who go and rescue puppy mill dogs. What is the point?”

It was a pivotal moment for me - whether to react or to take a deep breath and walk away... But, I chose to react.

In a very agitated, raised voice I "explained" that I personally rescued two of my dogs from mills - that the vet we were standing at had never seen a little uterus so bad... that my dog lost half her teeth – and that no dog deserved to be in a mill.

I haven't ranted in a year - haven't felt my blood boil - like it did yesterday. Of course she went on to say how nuts "some" rescue people are - trying to infer I was not one of "those." And, had to end the conversation on how people like me always want to put people like her in the same category as millers or mass producers of dogs.

I don’t think that is true – people just like her (not all breeders) and people who have puppy mills just happen to be the same – one sided – opinionated individuals who fail to have a lack of respect for humanity – that’s all.

She disliked people like me – who rescued dogs – dislikes the idea that we, as a nation, rescue dogs at all.

I wanted to scream – my heart was racing and I felt like I did a few years ago – when ignorant people would say ignorant things about something they knew nothing about.

This woman’s only comment on puppy mills was, “I have heard that the mills can be bad.”

I wanted to say, “Gosh, you sure know a lot about a profession you practice.”

See, if I were to be a real breeder of dogs – not only would I be a good one – I would educate myself all about the competition – I would stay ahead of them. I would seek out laws to put an end to their cruelty – not just because they are hurting my reputation or denting my profits but because I love companion animals.

And that is where so many breeders rub me the wrong way. They choose to stay in some little bubble – doing whatever they can to protect their own rights instead of taking action to protect the very dogs they breed.

To me, as an IG breeder – she should know about IG rescue – she should support it. Instead, it seems she is just out making more Italian Greyhounds as hundreds of others are left in shelters with no homes.

She walked into the patient room – her two show dogs at her side – I swear they were there to be bred.

Rattled and upset – I looked to the other side of the lobby where I saw the most amazing yellow lab ever. Blocky and stocky and down right the cutest BIG thing ever.

Being me, again, I walked over and asked if I could pet him… The owner smiled, “Of course.”

I asked if he was “just” a lab… and, no, of course he was NOT. He was a show dog – an English Labrador working on getting some special title this weekend in Chicago at the International Kennel Club show.

Another breeder.

It must have been my lucky day.

But, regardless – as futile or crazy as my actions yesterday or in all the days previous have been – rescuing puppy mill dogs and believing that I could change the world –they have helped define who I am as a person: admittedly, a bit de-ranged at time, emotionally unstable – but always passionate about the cause – and wanting to make a difference.

She thinks I am crazy – I think she is selfish and in the end – neither of our opinions of each other matter.

I fell asleep last night believing in all the “crazy” things I have done to save a dog. And I would do them all again tomorrow if I could.

Those things define me. I could have taken a deep breath yesterday and just walked over to the cute lab and never said a word about being one of those people who rescues dogs… that woman could have went on with her day – perhaps never in her life actually meeting – someone like me. But, I had to say who I was because it defines who I am.

And truthfully, if you are too embarrassed to say who you are – you should probably be something else.