A Tail Told by JD

(Over the course of several weeks, I had been engaged in cyber-conversation with a number of "USDA licensed breeders" from southwestern Missouri, who I consider to be puppy millers and refuse to call them anything less. And when one of them finally tried to convince me and others that they only bred "true to type" and for correct "conformation" and that it was the "show breeders" who were polluting the gene pool, the idea was instantly born for this satirical piece dealing with "What if Westminster had a Puppy Mill Show?"

Puppy mills are no laughing matter--especially to those of us in rescue and those of us who have seen these operations first-hand. But unfortunately, we are in the minority. Most people, including lifelong dog lovers, have no idea what a puppy mill is, what they're about or any of the problems associated with them.

So rather than get on a soapbox and preach to the great unwashed masses, I decided to use a macabre sort of humor to try and illustrate the average mentality of the average puppy miller through both absurdity and tidbits of conversation I've heard at auctions, pet stores and casual conversations with those who support USDA licensed mass breeding operations.

If you are interested in learning more about puppy mills and what you can do to stop them, perhaps the best place to quickly learn more would be at the following website: www.nopuppymills.com.

Thank you.

--JD)

What if there were a Puppy Millers Westminster Show? I suspect it would probably go something like this. So, with no further adieu, let's go to Roger and Joe and their commentary. . .

JOE: Ah. . . Welcome everyone to the most exciting part of this year's Puppy Millers Westminster Show where it's time to pick the Best in Show from all these outstanding picks represented by each Group. Look, here they come stumbling and limping into the ring--Ladies and Gentlemen, these are true examples of the finest specimens offered by today's USDA licensed commercial breeders. Let's here what Roger has to say as he gives a brief description of each of the finalists.

ROGER: (over P.A.) Representing the Non-Sporting Group is Hillbilly Horace's "Deafness Is Not A Fault In My Book" Dalmatian, bred repeatedly and exploited by Horace Feezleberg of Jerkwater, Missouri.

JOE: Gee, that's a nice set of overalls Horace is wearing, wouldn't you say? Hey, it even looks like he washed his feet for the big event--way to go, Horace!

ROGER: While deafness is a fault in most Dalmatians, it is acceptable in many commercial breeding operations and pet stores actually use deafness to their advantage as a selling point by persuading the uninformed buyer that a deaf dog will bark less since it is not able to hear other dogs barking. Unfortunately, it appears that "Deafness" is not heeding her handler's commands.

JOE: Of course she isn't--she can't HEAR her handler. But she DOES have some pretty blue eyes!

ROGER: This is "Deafness Is Not A Fault In My Book," puppy mill Dalmatian, number 3 septillion forty seven.

JOE: Here comes the representative from the Hound Group. Funny, I've never seen a three-legged Beagle final at Westminster before. This is really something!

ROGER: Representing the Hound Group is Pigwoman's "Hop-a-long And Don't Crap On My Floor" Beagle--the new three-legged variety originating from unchartered territories in the lesser Ozark regions of Missouri, owned and handled by Bertha "The Wheelbarrow" Podunk.

JOE: Bertha looks stunning this evening in her burlap sack mu-mu. . . or would that be "moo-moo?" Cute little fellow this "Hop-a-long And Don't Crap On My Floor" Beagle is--missing that rear leg really adds personality to his gait.

ROGER: The Beagle has been known as a tireless chaser of rabbits. A commercial kennel in the lesser Ozarks decided that a three-legged variety of the Beagle would be easier to breed and maintain and upon breeding her first successful litter of three-legged Beagles, immediately began inbreeding the litter. The result is the hottest novelty that commercial breeders have seen in the past two weeks. The Podunk Millhouse has patented their variety of the three-legged Beagle and publicly stated that anyone wishing to duplicate their efforts will first have to engage in a mud-wrestling match with "The Wheelbarrow" herself.

JOE: Wow! Don't think I'D wanna do that--she has more hair under her armpits than Tiny Tim had on his head!

ROGER: This is "Hop-a-long And Don't Crap On My Floor" puppy mill Beagle, number 814,247,328.

JOE: Whew! They're sure cranking out those Beagles down there. OK, here comes the finalist from the Sporting Group. Look, it's a rare white Labrador Retriever in a wheelchair! Let's hear Roger's comments.

ROGER: Representing the Sporting Group is Outlaw Poacher's "Being Handicapped Don't Stop Me From Crankin' Em Out" Labrador Retriever, owned and handled by Theodore "The Parolee" Guttinsky.

JOE: Probably better watch what I say about Mr. Guttinsky--but I can't help but notice all the intricate tattoos of snails and slugs that adorn his face and shaved head. Wait, is that a prison number tattooed on his eyebrows?

ROGER: Commercial breeders have determined that the uninformed public desires a friendly dog that can be easily seen at night when it gets loose from their yard and goes searching for love. The Guttinsky Mills have the answer. The white color makes the Black Labrador Retriever easily seen all hours of the day, and by constantly breeding for canine hip dysplasia, the proud owners of such a puppy will have months of playful activity and when the puppy begins reaching two years of age, the dysplasia guarantees that the normally rambunctious and high-spirited Labrador Retriever becomes immobile--and thus much easier to look after.

JOE: Makes sense to me!

ROGER: This is Outlaw Poacher's "Being Handicapped Don't Stop Me From Crankin' Em Out" Labrador Retriever, number 2 gazillion, eighty-two.

JOE: Next up, everyone's favorite--the Toy Breed finalist! And hey. . . look at this little fellow.

ROGER: Representing the Toy Group is Yo Quiero's "I Ain't Nothing But Two Big Eyeballs" Chihuahua, owned and bred endlessly by Edna Spudzinslobber from Mexico, Missouri.

JOE: Wow, does this dog even have any fur on him at all? I knew Chihuahuas were small, but criminy! You need a telescope just to see this little guy.

ROGER: Recent television commercials for a popular fast food chain have been the answer to commercial breeders' dreams when they began starring a small, sassy Chihuahua. Originally a companion dog of diminutive size, the Chihuahua from the Spudzinslobber Gruel Pits has been bred to never shed as it has no coat. By mixing the Mexican hairless with the Chihuahua and breeding only the runts to each other, the Spudzinslobber line has produced a stunning example of a dog that shivers 24 hours a day--much to the delight of pet store passerbys who are almost hypnotized by its non-stop shaking. But with each purchase of a Spudzinslobber Gruel Pits Chihuahua, they'll throw in a free purse made of leftover cornmeal sacks to carry your little fellow in.

JOE: Now THAT'S a good deal, just don't tell my wife or she'll want two.

ROGER: This is "I Ain't Nothing But Two Big Eyeballs" Chihuahua, number two billion, one hundred and seventeen.

JOE: And here comes the finalist from the Terrier Group and does she look uncomfortable. . .

ROGER: Representing the Terrier Group is "Budweiser Country's Pop-A-Top And Kiss Your Cousin" co-owned by Jeb Barleyfarts and his first cousin fiancée Sharilda Scutzscuds. The Barleyfarts Dog Factory prides itself on cropping the ears of their miniature schnauzers fifteen minutes after they're whelped, which accounts for the smooth head and uninterrupted flow of the skull. Hmmmmmm. This little lady is looking a tad bit uncomfortable. Normally, the miniature schnauzer's gait is lively and high-stepping--not plodding and lethargic like little Kiss Your Cousin's.

JOE: Uh. . . I don't think Roger is seeing this, but I think we're about to have a first here at Westminster this year--

ROGER: Good God! She's laying down and giving birth! Why. . . would you look at THAT? Little miss Budweiser Country's Pop-A-Top And Kiss Your Cousin was ready to whelp and there she goes folks.

JOE: And just listen to the other commercial breeders out there cheering her on. Why, their chanting in cadence and actually counting in unison as she drops her pups! And there goes Sharilda with her sewing scissors ready to do the ears before they hit the ground--what a pro!

ROGER: Normal whelping with normal miniature schnauzers can take as long as 12 hours to deliver 6-8 puppies. But the Barleyfarts Dog Factory breeds their bitches every consecutive heat cycle to "loosen" them up, and thus able to whelp quickly and efficiently.

JOE: Seven, eight, nine, TEN PUPPIES--that may be a new record for Jeb and his first cousin fiancée. And look at the brokers jumping out of the stands with checkbooks in hand. Boy, you sure don't see THIS at normal dog shows, folks. . . take my word for it.

ROGER: And now through whelping in a record six minutes, 24 seconds is Budweiser Country's Pop-A-Top And Kiss Your Cousin, miniature Schnauzer number 5 kriptillion, six thousand and two.

JOE: Two more finalists to go and up next should be the finalist from the Herding Group--the miniature Australian Shepherd. (PAUSE) Uh, wait a minute. . . I have a message here. It seems that the miniature Australian Shepherd bred and shown by Williford Vealtestes has escaped the premises. Preliminary reports state that a youngster sat down next to him with a picture of Little Bo Peep and her sheep, and when the miniature Australian Shepherd saw the picture of the sheep, it almost died of fright and bolted away from Mr. Vealtestes of Sheepcountry, Iowa. What a shame. . . I guess it's on to our final finalist, the Working Group!

ROGER: Representing the Working Group is "King of the Chicken Wire Ring Poop and Scoop's Hi-Karate Rottie Roy," owned and bred by Ace and Ava Klutzenquacker of Mucksuck, Missouri.

JOE: Ha! Looking at the rear view of old Rottie Roy, I was about to comment on him really "having a pair," but it looks like ol' Roy is suffering from that miller's malady known as "one ball shy of having two."

ROGER: Undescended testicles are normally a fault in all breeds, including the Mucksuck regionalized Rottweiler, but because commercial breeders show their compassion daily for Americans living in fear, they breed their oversized and underbrained Rottweilers to protect the homes of our drug lords, pimps and other undesirables. Never let it be said that commercial millers have no compassion in their hearts for the underdogs. . . no pun intended.

JOE: Now, as the judge examines the dog, he checks for intactness and --WHOA BOY!!! Ol' Roy has the judge's hand in his mouth. . . MY GOD, HE JUST CHEWED THE JUDGE'S HAND COMPLETELY OFF!!! HE'S GOING BESERK. . . SNARLING. . . . BITING. . . .LOOKING TO ATTACK!!!! WE NEED HELP HERE. HELP I SAY, HELP!!!

ROGER: The Rottweiler's temperament is normally that of stability and levelheadedness--

JOE: Ol' Roy is coming to the ANNOUNCER'S BOOTH!!! Where's my GUN??!!??

ROGER: But in instances of commercial breeding, temperament can often times be sacrificed for size and aggressiveness--

JOE: Ol' Roy SEES ME!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!!!!

ROGER: This is King of the Chicken Wire Ring Poop and Scoop's Hi-Karate Rottie Roy, Rottweiler number 23 zeptillion, seven hundred and thirteen.

JOE: (Desperate relief in his voice) Thank goodness the Klutzenquackers thought to bring one of their many bitches in heat with them. . . instead of ol' Roy chewing on us, he's now studding in a whole 'nother litter. Wonder if any of his pups will have the career that he has?

(PAUSE FOR COMMERCIAL BREAK)

JOE: Well, you've seen our seven finalists, ladies and gentlemen. So now, place your vote on who should be this year's Puppy Mill Westminster Show Champion!

Copyright © 1999, 2001 by JD Kinman. Reprinted with permission of the author.