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Can’t You Hear Me?

An article by Mark Forrest Patrick

Note From the Editor:
Below is a fictional account of what happens behind the scenes in a puppy mill. Be aware that some of the information is graphic in nature and maybe disturbing to read but is based on fact and is intended to illustrate the horrific conditions experienced by animals at most of these facilities.

It’s early in the morning, about 6:00 am. I hear foots steps approaching, people talking. It is dark in this place and smells of feces and urine. The situation here is grave, cold and dark. I lay in this crate with several other dogs, some bigger than me. My tail is stepped on, I lay in filth and I have nowhere to go, no way out. Some of us have gone I am not sure where. Some are lifeless, have they died and still remain in the crate?

The voices are approaching will they give us some water? My mouth is dry, my skin is weak and I can hardly move in this little crate. I would like to see daylight. I wish I could run and play and touch the grass. Is this the way life is really to be for me? I am now six months old and still in this same ole crate. My feet are sore, by bones are aching and all I get is this same old slop to eat. When I get some water my crate mates spill the water. We are now wet from urine and our water bowl. Oh, I whine and cry and no one listens. I never feel the touch of a human. I wish someone would hold me or just give me a bath.

Oh, some of my friends here are being placed in crates. Oh, where are they going? Will they stay here with me or are they going to another place? I hear the whine in the air, I hear the babies cry. Oh I hope they are not going to be like me, trapped in this crate. I hope someone is listening and gives me a home. I sit and whine, but why does no one listen to my cry?

I feel the drip of water upon my face from the crate above me. The bowl of their slop drips upon my fur. Is anyone here to help me? It is cold outside and I am wet, soiled with feces and food. Where did my mother go? Is my father here to protect me and hear me cry? It is lonely here as we all try to survive, will someone listen?

Today another one of my crate mates lays here lifeless, is she alive? I can’t move to help her, my feet are so sore, I feel so weak. My friend had bites, and open sores and had not been able to move. She still lies here, no one seems to care. I am thankful it is cold outside so the flies are not coming. Will someone come and help her please?

The life for us here is terrible and it makes us weak. We have so many complaints and so many problems. Some of us will never leave and some of us will be forced to deliver and nurse more just like me. They too will be weak, sick and remain in this crate just like me. You look at us and say “oh how cute!” but if you could see me now you would say “oh my God!”. I am not your cute loveable puppy. I am sick, emaciated, missing hair and being left here to die.

A puppy mill is a mass breeding facility that produces puppies for sale at retail outlets across the country.

Thousands of puppy mills produce over two million puppies annually. While most of these facilities are inspected and licensed by the U.S.D.A., many are notorious for their filthy, overcrowded conditions, and the unhealthy animals they produce.

For more information on puppy mills, visit