Article on a Dog Auction

[eensor]

I don't mean to keep depressing everyone here at YT, but I cannot stand what is happening to these dogs who are God's creatures! I'm only trying to spread the word about puppy mills and how we as consumers can make a big enough dent in their profit to make them stop. It is the only way they ever will, since the "inspectors" are from the USDA and there are far too few to ever enforce the laws that are already on the books. I got the following article by going to Google and typing in Dog auctions in Missouri. This was one of MANY!!!!

An animal rescue organization called me and asked for my help. They needed someone to register at a dog auction “somewhere in Missouri” to bid on dogs coming up for auction. The auction house owner identified the rescue volunteers and denied them access to the auction. They needed a new face to bid at their direction. They would front the money, and I would bid for specific dogs they identified for me. I readily agreed to this arrangement, as I had never been to a dog auction before. How little I knew of what I was getting in to.

It was a long drive and we got to the auction a little later than planned. We pulled up on a side road and walked onto the property. The auction building was a low-slung affair of sheet metal and concrete. It was divided into two rooms. Risers filled the larger of the two rooms, facing the auctioneer. There was a chain link fence arranged in a semi-circle around the auctioneer. Huge signs about the “Professional Pet Breeding Industry” lined the walls, as well as signs guaranteeing the availability of breeding papers for any litter of dogs. I raised my eyebrows at that one. I found out from my escorts later that the puppy-mill industry owns the organization behind that ad. They never turn down a request to register a litter.

Bored –looking employees brought out dogs from a room behind the auctioneer and displayed them on folding tables for the crowd to examine. The room was warm, though the day was a cool one. A large crowd milled around the fence. Many had staked their claim to prime spots right in front of the auctioneer with lawn chairs, complete with cold beers in their hands. The auctioneer obviously knew many of the people in the front, calling them by first name. My escorts kept their hats pulled low across their faces and hung back to keep their presence secret. If they were caught, I would have no way to bid on the dog they wanted me to save.

The auction had already started, so I made my way from the crowd to the registration desk. The auctioneer droned on in a loud voice that hardly seemed to be speaking English. I could barely hear the woman there asking me to fill out a form. A man next to her asked for and carefully examined my driver’s license. (I found out later that they not only screened names, but some states that were known to harbor “troublemakers” as well. My native state of ****** is one of them.) Finally satisfied with my identity, they assigned me a numbered paddle for bidding and handed me a booklet of dogs coming up for bid that day. The woman brightly informed me that there were “lots of good ones left,” even though the auction had already started. As I left the desk and threaded my way through the crowd, I wondered if this is what the slave auctions sounded like in the Old South.

Reaching the front, I looked more closely at the sale book. It was huge, almost a dozen pages long. In fine print, dogs were listed alphabetically by breed. There must have been a couple of hundred dogs of almost every breed imaginable. My heart sunk as I saw “Shetland Sheepdog” in the “S” column. Fortunately, there were only three in this auction. I resolved to see the “merchandise” at all costs. This might be my only chance to see the whole picture, and I was determined to get a good look.

I was there only to bid on one specific dog this time. The puppy was new to the mill cycle, and the rescuers wanted to get him out of the system. It would be awhile before he came up for bid, so I wandered around, listened, and watched. I did not dare to take too many notes, as that might identify me as someone other than a “serious buyer.” I didn’t want to be asked to leave before I completed my “mission.”

As I watched, puppies and dogs were carried out from behind the auctioneer and were held up high like some gruesome sacrifice at a pagan ritual. The auctioneer extolled the virtues of each dog in turn, telling the crowd of their breeding success in his amplified drone. He downplayed the injuries and defects, of which there were many. Most of the dogs were missing teeth and had fight scars. One dog had an anal hernia, but sold as breeding stock just the same. “It won’t hurt him none where it counts,” called the auctioneer. “He’ll do just fine and produce lots of puppies for you!” Never mind that the dog was obviously in pain, and that anal hernias are a genetic defect in that breed. He sold for quite a bit. I wondered what the future owners of his progeny would think of his puppies when their vet told them about anal hernias.

Another little Pug was extolled for the size of her litters. “Here she is, folks! Pure profit for you! She had thirteen puppies in her last litter,” said the auctioneer. “Had to have them with a C-section, but she’s healed up and ready to go! A proven producer!” I wanted to vomit.

continued in next post.....

[kraekerr715]

OMG! This is just too much for me to read! How can this be allowed?!!!!! Why aren't there laws! I am so angry!!!!!!

[eensor]

Just wanted to get this out there again......