An Open Letter To The American Kennel Club (AKC)

Dear AKC:

Regarding the latest news story of the elderly Arizona couple who had over 800 dogs in their triple-wide trailer http://www.kpho.com/news/15579448/detail.html, I am contacting you to express my concern at the AKC’s failure in this matter and matters like it.

I don’t understand how your organization can continue to issue litter registrations to someone like this without red flags going up and bells and whistles screaming. If the purpose of the AKC is further breed standards, how can you not recognize puppy millers such as these? Oh that’s right, it’s because you work so closely with the likes of the Hunte Corporation, the largest puppy broker in the nation.

Rather than being the organization that fights for the dogs and champions reputable breeders, yours has become an organization where the almighty dollar takes preference over the lives of innocent puppies. As long as those puppy millers keep sending you their fees, you’re going to keep registering their litters, no matter how many they have in a month’s or year’s time.

I cannot properly express to you my disgust and disappointment in the AKC. My breed of choice happens to be the Bichon Frise. I am not a breeder but am very involved in rescue. Every time we get some poor little pup out of a puppy mill with a grade 6 PDA heart murmur or a group of 30 breeding females dumped on us with diseases and mange and broken spirits, I get angry that these places are allowed to continue mistreating dogs and passing along genetic diseases and traits detrimental to the breed. I understand that the USDA is in charge of inspections but your organization is part of the chain as well. And both you and the USDA have dropped the ball.

Your organization can make a difference in the lives of these innocent little dogs but you must regroup and remember what your original purpose was. Until you change the way you do business and get involved in shutting these places down, I will continue to spread the word of your willful impotence and liability in these matters. I will scream it as loud as I can and encourage others to do so as well.

This is a time when the AKC has a choice. You can continue to go down the current path and focus on the money or you can do something heroic and help save lives. The decision is yours to make. I hope that you make the right one.

Puppy Mills

I’ve mentioned here before that I volunteer for a wonderful Bichon Frise rescue group called Small Paws Rescue®. It started 10 years ago when two women, who met on the internet and shared a love for Bichons, decided they needed to do something for all the hurting little Bichons out there. From there Small Paws® has grown into one of the largest breed rescues in the world with over 6,000 volunteers.

Our Nate came from Small Paws® just over two years ago. He had been a stray found in north Texas and placed in a kill shelter. His time was just about up when Small Paws® found out he was there and took him in. He was sent to us as a foster but we failed Fostering 101 and happily adopted Nate a mere 11 days later.

Since Nate’s arrival we have managed to successfully foster Sam and Sadie, who are half-Bichon and half-Shih Tzu. As you can read here they are now living a wonderful life in North Carolina. I get updates on them periodically and my heart just bursts to hear how great they are doing.

E and I recently decided to open our hearts and home to another Small Paws® rescue and this morning I drove to the airport and picked up Leah. She is a puppy mill rescue out of Missouri and this is a first for us as we’ve never had a dog from a mill. She’s really skittish and wouldn’t even get out of her kennel for me a while ago. Of course, coming from a puppy mill, she doesn’t even know what it’s like to be a dog.

Leah is here in my office right now. The door to her kennel is open but she isn’t venturing out. That kennel is her little den; her safety zone. As I sat here watching her I realized that she’s lived her entire life of three years in a cage. She’s had little or no human contact. She served only one purpose – to have litters of pups to make money for the miller. Puppy mill dogs are not pets and if they get treated as well as livestock, they are lucky. Leah has no idea what it’s like to be loved. She doesn’t trust humans. Her little soul is broken and it makes me both sad and angry.

Leah and others like her are the reason that no one should ever buy a dog or cat from a pet store. The puppies are taken away from their mothers too early and shipped in large trucks to the pet stores where some of them don’t live to be sold. The mothers and studs are kept in cages all of their lives usually stacked one on top of the other. No one lets them out to potty. Most likely they’ve never even touched grass. Their little toes are splayed from having to walk on the wire cage floor. They are kept outside in rickety buildings with little or no heat or air conditioning and often no windows.

Puppy millers are not legitimate breeders. They couldn’t care less about the breed itself. They don’t care about puppies born with hereditary diseases or genetic deformities. I can’t tell you how many of these puppy mill dogs have heart murmurs – huge holes in their hearts – that are then passed on to their offspring. Puppy mill dogs don’t often get to see a vet if they are sick or hurt. They’re just put down as vets are way too costly and eat into the puppy profits.

Legitimate breeders will not sell their pups to pet stores - I promise you that because legitimate breeders care about the breed and breed for standard. Big stores like PetsMart and Petco do not sell dogs and cats. These are corporations with scruples. Other chain pet stores don’t have these same scruples. We have one of those stores here in Baton Rouge too. I won’t go near the place. Well, once I did because I knew they had Bichon puppies in there (for $1200!) and I wanted to see if they were healthy. I went in and asked to look at them one at a time as if I were interested in buying one. I checked each little pup from head to toe. I also questioned the sales clerk about where they get their puppies. Poor kid gave me the spiel that they are taught – “We get them from local breeders.” I told him I knew better then left and cried when I got into the car.

Small Paws® has worked hard over the past few years to get the broker prices down on Bichons and make them not worth breeding. Since it has become hard to make money on them bred to other Bichons, millers have started cross-breeding them with other breeds to make “designer puppies” like half-Bichon and half-Cavalier King Charles Spaniel to create a “Cavachon”. They then sell them to pet stores who sell these pups for over $1,000.00 even though they are just mutts. You can’t register a “designer dog” because they aren’t pure bred. They are truly no different than your run-of-the-mill shelter dog except that someone paid a LOT of money for them and that their parents suffered in a mill somewhere.

Fortunately, a lot of breeders have gotten rid of their Bichon stock and have given them to Small Paws® and other Bichon rescue groups. Dogs like Leah will finally have good lives. It’s going to take her a while and she may never be as outgoing as a normal dog but Leah will learn to trust humans and she will know love. I can guarantee that because until she is adopted, she will be living with us where she will be spoiled and well loved. Leah will never have another litter of puppies again. No one is ever going to make money off of Leah again. Our dogs have a job now to teach Leah how to be a dog. She will someday feel safe outside of that kennel. Beginning today we start working on healing that broken little soul.

Want to read more about the horrors of puppy mills? Click the links below or Google "puppy mills" and please help Small Paws® and other rescue organizations put puppy mills out of business by not buying dogs or cats from anyone but a legitimate breeder, never from a pet store and by not patronizing pet stores that sell dogs and cats. Only when the demand stops will the supply cease.

I thank you and Leah thanks you too.

http://www.canismajor.com/dog/puppymil.html

http://www.critterhaven.net/partners.htm

http://www.turner.com/planet/promotions/puppies/prisoners.html

Thank you, Johnny Mathis

I don’t know about most of you out there but music marks so very many moments in my life.

We have a new radio station KDDK 105.5 in the area that plays what I consider to be classics – Frank Sinatra, Barbra Streisand, Sammy Davis, Jr., Tony Bennett and all the greats. They also throw in some show tunes and the most eclectic mix of Musak-type tunes, songs in French and Spanish, patriotic songs, old time religious songs, and the occasional operatic aria. After my Kidd Kraddick fix every morning, I tune in to this new station promptly at 10 am. I spend the rest of the day either singing or humming along or laughing as I try to figure where they dug up a particular song. I would go out of my mind if I couldn’t have music in the background while I work.

One of the first songs I ever heard played on this station is the one that endeared me to the place forever. I was driving along and heard Johnny Mathis’ “Sweetheart Tree” - a song written by the great Johnny Mercer for the movie "The Great Race" directed by Blake Edwards.

They say there’s a tree in the forest
A tree that will give you a sign
Come along with me to the Sweetheart Tree
Come and carve your name next to mine

They say if you kiss the right sweetheart
The one you’ve been waiting for
Big blossoms of white will burst into sight
And your love will be true evermore

Johnny is Mom’s very favorite singer. She has been fortunate enough to have seen him live several times through the years. “Sweetheart Tree” is one of Johnny’s lesser known tunes so it’s not an easy song to find (as I found out one birthday sometime back when I decided I had to find it on CD for Mom). But the second I hear it I am transported back to 1965 at age 4 when Johnny’s album “The Sweetheart Tree” was brand new. I was an only child at the time and my mom was a stay-at-home mom. “Sweetheart Tree” quickly became our favorite and I remember I would often beg Mom to play our song. She would put that album on the phonograph and we would dance.

I hadn’t heard the station replay “Sweetheart Tree” since the first day I listened but this afternoon they dug it out again. On the first occasion, I had called Mom and turned up the radio so she could hear it over the cell phone. Today I just sat back in my chair and let my mind remember a time when it was just my mom and I at home every day. There wasn’t a set up twins there taking up a lot of her time (not that I’m not glad they came along later), none of the mother-daughter battles of the teenage years had happened yet, I hadn’t discovered The Beatles, and I still believed moms were perfect in every way. Johnny Mathis sang and we twirled and giggled and sang “Sweetheart Tree” together - just Mom, Johnny, and me. I have lots of wonderful childhood memories but this one ranks way up there.

So Johnny, I’ve made fun of you through the years and have given my mom a hard time for being such a huge fan of yours, but the truth is that 40+ years ago you gave my mom and me something special to share and I really have to thank you for that.

November 20, 1999

About nine years ago, I was working from home one afternoon and I had my AOL Instant Messenger open so that I could communicate with my office. All of a sudden a message popped up and this person asked if I was his friend Terry. I said no. He apologized and explained that his friend worked at a 911 center in Utah and all he could remember was that she had 911 in her screen name. Since he couldn't remember the whole thing, he'd done a search for screen names with 911 in them and mine showed up and flagged me as being online. He took a shot that it might be her. He then asked if I worked for a 911 center and I explained that I'd recently left a job in a center. He was genuinely curious and asked several more questions. Before I knew it, we'd talked the whole afternoon away and I'd gotten very little of my work done.

We left that conversation agreeing that we'd add each other to our buddy lists and chat next time we were online at the same time. Those chats soon began to be daily sessions where we exchanged thoughts and ideas and got to know one another. Months and months flew by and then the phone calls began. Before we knew it, this guy from Utah and I had formed a bond over the miles. He decided he wanted to move down here to Louisiana so he found a job and a place to live. I picked him up in Kansas City that summer - July 10, 1999. We were married four months and ten days later. I was two weeks shy of my 38th birthday.

Eight years ago today, I married the man that I had given up hope of ever finding. Yet he found me on a fairly new thing called the internet. If I'd been anywhere else but at home on my computer that day, these past eight years would have been so very different and lonely.

Instead of sitting here telling you what a lonely 45 year old woman I am, I get to tell you about how well taken care of I am, how loved I am, and how happy I am. These eight years have flown by with E by my side. There have been high points and low points but through them all we have stood together knowing that neither of us wanted to be in any other place.

So thank you, my darling E, for being the husband that you are. I would have laughed all those years ago if someone had told me how this would all go down. But the smile on my face today is one of pure joy because I get to be your wife. I love you deeper every year and I am so thankful to have your hand to hold as we journey through life together.

Inked!

I know that I was supposed to continue with the story of last weekend but I have to interrupt that story with this breaking news... E and I got inked on Friday night! This is E's second tat but was my first foray into the world of permanently inked things on one's skin. I have to say that I love it! It took me until I was just a month away from my 46th birthday to figure out something that I could live with permanently on my body and here it is...



The needles represent the first pair of needles I ever bought - size 8, 14" Brittany Victorian walnut - that I broke a couple of months ago. I was sick over losing them as they were my favorite an irreplaceable. Now I have the with me always. The color of the yarn is special to me because my two best friends K and D and I call our get-togethers "purpling", which references the poem "Warning" aka "When I'm An Old Woman" by Sandra Martz. I had him put it on my lower left calf.

E got the symbols for Zen and Om on his upper right arm. Check it out...



He wanted a calming color so he had me pick out a nice blue. I think it came out great.

Basking in the post-Pilgrimage glow Part 1

Over the next few days, I'll be sharing photos and memories of this past weekend. I was fortunate enough to be able to spend it in Memphis, Tennessee, and Corinth, Mississippi, celebrating our dear friend DixiePeach. I was joined by my friends PKB, Poppymom, A and S. We didn't think we could possibly top Peach Pilgrimage 2004 but it actually happened.

Day 1 -

Began with a six hour drive that included a couple of stops along the way. First stop was the Artex Factory Outlet in West Point, Mississippi, for some cloth napkins (45 for 10 cents each) and some place mats. Next stop was to pick up Dixie in Corinth and then we headed west towards Memphis to meet PKB and Poppy. Since we were staying at the Peabody hotel that evening, we ditched the cars in the parking garage then headed into the lobby for some drinks and to check out the ducks.



While the ducks marched out of the fountain for the evening, we shared some yummy peach martinis.


This is Dixie, me, and PKB enjoying those drinks. Photo by Poppymom, who - just after this photo was taken - wore PKB's martini.

PKB then got the bright idea that we should walk over to Beale Street while we waited for A and S. She kept saying she wanted a bucket of beer from Silky O'Sullivan's. When we got to Silky's PKB was informed that they didn't sell beer buckets but did sell a bucket called the Diver. Naturally, she ordered that. It came with eight straws and was an odd shade of pink. We were later told that it contains beer, red wine, rum, and grenadine. It actually tastes pretty good but it will make you fully aware that you've been drinking.

We sat at a table outside on the street corner and attracted many amused passersby who had to know what we were drinking. All Dixie would say was, "It's a bucket of hooch. What did you think it was?"

Here's the hooch:


And here's the four of us enjoying the hooch on the street corner:

Poppymom, PKB, Dixie, and me. Photo by some random Beale Street passerby who wanted to stick his straw in the bucket and taste.

Of course, when A and S landed, they called and busted us. Apparently we weren't supposed to start drinking without them. We didn't have the heart to tell them that it was way too late for that.

Next post will be all about our night in the Peabody.

Yay, Al!

You may not know this about me but I love Al Gore. So does E, for that matter. In fact, E calls him the best president we never had.

So imagine how excited I was to hear Al won the Nobel Peace Prize today. I can't think of anyone more deserving this year.

As predicted, the awarding of the Nobel Prize immediately intensified calls for him to enter the Democratic nominating contest for president and speculation over whether he would. The rumors that he would win it had already helped a grassroots movement to draft him into the race raise tens of thousands of dollars for advertisements.

Boy, don't I wish. I'd work hard for that campaign.

Congratulations, Al. You certainly deserve this award. Keep up the fight.