...and something I'd never seen happen in 14 months of living with my baby girl from the breeding kennel, my Izzy. The baby who became a mommy by accident when she wasn't big enough or strong enough to breed. The dog who spent at least two months of her life in a 6x10 foot cage, only coming out twice a day while the kennel was cleaned. The dog who may have never seen rain before.
She went in the dog house to get out of the rain.
Just to make a point--the phrase "puppy mill" makes you think, "poor little puppies. Cages and cages of sad-eyed puppies, nothing to play with and no one to love." But that's not the way it is. The puppies get it good. They get toys, and play, and lots of socializing attention. It's the breeding stock that sees the real misery. Why bother training? Why give them exercise? Why let them outdoors? Their purpose is to turn out as many healthy puppies as possible until they die. Like a machine.
That was then; this is now. When I put her out it was drizzling but the temperature was still warm, seventy or so. But after a while it came a good shower Ed peeked out the curtain and said, "Well look who's in the dog house." It took me a second look to believe it.
Izzy figured out what a dog house is for!
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