Straight From the PuppyMill
Chicago English Bulldog Rescue came to get me when they learned that I was being auctioned off to the highest bidder at an all-English bulldog auction. To make matters worse, the greedy puppymillers that “owned” me not only put me up for auction, but subjected me to that atmosphere while I was over half way through my pregnancy. They knew that other potential buyers would be salivating over purchasing a pregnant bully. It didn’t really even matter if I lived through the pregnancy, if they purchased me, they would make their money back and then some once they sold my puppies.

At the Auction House
I was just one of many bulldogs stacked in cages several high with limited food and water. The smell of feces was so strong, despite the chill air. Hundreds of bulldogs were in the holding room with me, each with their own desperate story to tell. We all came from unhappy places. Farms, often Amish, where we were kept in the most despicable conditions day in and day out. The smell was atrocious. But most of the dogs were used to it. We were used to living like that. And we all knew we were going to the next unhappy place.

They Came and Went
I watched as the auctioneers came into the room, grabbed a handful of dogs and took them out to the auction block. There is a trick when they do this. Most of us can’t walk well because we have spent our entire lives in cages. Our legs are underdeveloped and our paws are sore and bleeding from standing on the wire. So they carry us onto the block and set us down. Nobody ever knows how bad our condition is. I watched as all of my fellow bullies came and went. Sold to the highest bidders. Sold for greed. For puppies and only puppies. To provide happy moments to pet stores. Nobody ever thinks about where those puppies come from. What the conditions are like for the moms that give birth to those pet store window pups.

My Most Amazing Moment
They picked me up, pregnant belly hanging low, and took me out to the auction block. I noticed all of the greedy faces in the audience. The auctioneer announced what a great deal I was, a dog that was a “proven breeder” at 7 years old with litter upon litter on my resume. He got the crowd excited about how much money they could make if they bought me and simply sold my puppies. I was looking into that crowd horrified to think which of those people would load me in their truck and take me to my new “home” – although my idea of home was much different then.

But then, I realized something different was happening. None of those people stepped forward to claim me. At the end of the auction, people came and went, picking up their purchases, their breeding dogs, like kids in a candy store. I waited, not knowing my fate.

I Found Love
Night fell and I was stuck in the cold, dank holding pen. I wondered what would happen to me. I was sick, my puppies were growing and needed fed, I was cold, my eye hurt from the ulcer that has been growing for a long time, my paws throbbed. And instead of an Amish breeder, or a greedy commercial puppymiller, I was picked up by the most wonderful people. They took me in their arms, hugged me, loved me and told me something I will never forget.

“This will be your last litter sweet girl.”

I realized these people weren’t here to hurt me, but came to rescue me. They took me into their car and wrapped me in blankets, gave me toys, food, water and lots of love. I wasn’t sure how to respond, but I knew I liked it. I knew it felt right. We drove a long, long way, through the day and into the night. All the way across the country.

Life is Good
I made my way into the arms of a rescuer who has kept me safe and warm, has taken me to the vet, and is so gentle and kind with me. I’m still afraid to come out of my cage; I’m very used to living in there. But she coaxes me out and lets me lie in from of the Christmas tree. It smells so good and the fire is so warm. My belly is full and my puppies are happy in there. I can just tell. She holds my paws and tells me it’s going to be okay. She gives me warm baths and tends to my ears and eyes. She rubs my belly and tells me I’m a good mommy. That nobody is going to take my puppies away. That I will get to raise them and she will help me find them wonderful, loving homes.   And she promises me that she will find me the most special forever home as well.

You Can Help
Bringing me into the safety of rescue has cost the rescue a tremendous amount of money. In addition, my medical care, including a C-section delivery and the care of my puppies has amounted to thousands of dollars. My hope is that you can help the rescuers of Chicago English Bulldog Rescue and support them in my care. All you have to do is click on Donate to help.