Happy Forever After. By Katie Morgan

I had a long night again, the puppies were very cold and huddled close to me for comfort.  We could have done with some blankets but the bad man never brought any.  The sound of his heavy boots coming across the yard makes the puppies whimper and they cower behind me.

We hear the clanking as he opens the cages and throws the food in.  He comes along the row, we are in the last one.  By the time he gets to us there is not much food left.  I need food or I won’t be able to make enough milk for the puppies.  There are 11 of them this time.  Last litter I had there were only four, the bad man was not happy.  He said “If you don’t give me more next time it will be curtains for you”. 

He sniggered his evil laugh and made a gun shape with his hand and pointed at me.  I backed up to the rear of the cage as he walked off laughing. But that was then.

A few days ago I gave birth to 11 beautiful babies. Six boys and five girls.  I would love to name them but of course there’s no point.  Three weeks. That’s all I get with my babies then they are taken away and sold.  I cry every time, I hear their sad little whimpers as they are taken away.  They need their mummy and I need them.

I suppose you are wondering what my name is.  I don’t have a name.  I don’t know how old I am.  I think I am about two.  I am a Basset Hound.  I remember when I was a little baby.  I thought I was the lucky one.  When my littermates were taken away by the bad man, he let me stay with my mother.  It was lovely, we stayed together in the cage for ages.  But then it was time for her to have a new litter.  The bad man came and put me in another cage, as I was being pulled away I saw the stud dog being pushed into mums cage.  She looked at me with her big brown eyes then turned away sadly.  That was the last time I saw her.  I was moved into a cage on my own.  It was small, damp and cold.  I cried at night and the bad man would come and shout at me.  All I wanted was my mummy. 

When I was old enough to have puppies of my own, the bad man brought the stud dog in.  He pushed him into my cage and said “there you go boy, have a good time”. 

Then he laughed, that evil manic laugh that I have grown to fear and hate.  After that every time I have my season the bad man comes with a stud dog, sometimes the same one, sometimes strangers.  We never speak, the bad man waits.  He wants the puppies so we have to do what needs to be done quickly.  Then the male dog is taken away and I am alone again until the puppies are born.

So, anyway, I have had my three precious weeks with my babies.  They are lucky, they all survive and will make the bad man lots of money.  He is happy about that, but he doesn’t reward me.  No extra food, no blankets. 

The bad man comes with his crate.  I know that crate, that’s what they take the puppies away in.  As he sets it down outside my cage and starts to unlock the bolt I gather the babies up in my paws and hug them all tightly.  We all cry.  It’s so hard to let go but I have no choice, the bad man is stronger than me and he has the gun.  I know what he does with the gun, everyone does, it’s hard not to.  When we get too old or stop giving him what he needs the gun comes out and some poor dog is dragged out of their cage and shot.  Just like that.  He doesn’t care if we see, he wants us to be frightened.

Tonight I am in my cage alone.  It’s very cold outside, I don’t know what time of year it is, we don’t ever go out there.  I can see outside through the bars of my cage and the open door of the barn we live in.  There are many cages all in rows.  Sometimes the noise of the barking and the howling and the puppies whimpering is overpowering and the bad man comes into the barn and shouts, the noises soon fade away.  We know what the bad man is capable of.  The cage is wet and smelly.  I try not to soil in my sleeping area but the cage is so small it’s very difficult.  I have ammonia burns on my legs and open wounds on my face and stomach.  Sometimes the pain is so intense I just sit and scratch.  Nobody ever comes to see if we are alright.  I wish someone would take the pain away.

I miss the puppies too but I know it won’t be long before another litter comes along.  I am sat shivering, scratching and thinking about the puppies when we hear sirens, tyres on the dirt track and the sound of human voices.  Not the bad man, other voices, lots of them.  I shuffle to the back of my cage, I don’t want them to take me.  I am good, I gave the bad man lots of puppies.  The sound of terrified howling fills the air.

Suddenly lots of people are in the barn.  They have bright lights which they shine into the cages.  The lights hurt my eyes, I am not used to light.  A man in a dark blue uniform uses a pair of big metal clippers to snap the lock on my cage and a pair of hands reach in and touch me gently.  I have been touched!  By a human!  It feels so nice, the hands are warm and friendly.  A soft voice talks to me, “Come on little girl, I won’t hurt you”.  I push my nose into the warm hands.  They smell clean.  

The hands take me and pick me up and a human is holding me.  This human is not like the bad man, he is the only human I ever saw.  This is a female human, like me!  She is talking softly and gently to me.  She tells me her name is Sylvia and she is going to take me to her rescue centre and make everything better.  The man in the dark blue uniform is a policeman.  He is taking the bad man away in a car with flashing lights.  Us dogs are all taken out of our cages.  There are so many of us living here.  I never realised how many of us were in this barn, all Bassets just like me.  I look around for my mother, I can’t see her anywhere.  I don’t know how long it has been since I saw her.  Maybe I forgot what she looks like, maybe that’s her?  Or her?  Or her?  I don’t know.  I can’t remember my own mother’s face.

The lady with the clean hands, Sylvia, is still carrying me.  I am embarrassed.  I know I must smell terrible but she isn’t complaining.  She carries me outside.  There are lots of vans waiting.  All us dogs from the barn and the stud dogs from the other barn are being carried to the vans.  Sometimes I see one of the humans put a dog on the ground to walk but we are all too weak from years of living in a cage.  We have never walked, we wouldn’t know how to.  Sylvia places me on the floor while she unlocks her van.  My legs collapse under me.  I am so weak.  “Oh you poor baby, you are so hungry”, she cries.

She rushes round to the front of the van and comes back with a bag of biscuits, a large bottle of water and lots of tin bowls.  She puts some food and water down in front of me.  I gulp it down greedily, then I look at her with shame.  The other dogs must be hungry too and I ate all of it.  Sylvia laughs softly and says “don’t worry sweetie, there’s plenty more where that came from”.

She leaves me eating and goes back into the barn.  Sylvia comes back a few minutes later with a man.  They are carrying a dog each and place them down close to me and give them a bowl of food.  We are so overwhelmed, hungry and exhausted, we barely acknowledge each other.  I finish my bowl and drift off to sleep right there in the dirt by the open van. 

I am woken by firm but kindly hands lifting me.  A man this time, not Sylvia.  Sylvia sees the fear in my eyes and says “It’s ok, this is a good man, say hello to Bill”. I look up at Bill and see that this is a nice man. I have a lot to learn about different kinds of humans. 

By the time we are ready to leave there are seven of us altogether going with Sylvia and Bill.  Six adult females and one puppy. She is blind and is with her mummy. The bad man couldn’t sell her so she had a lucky escape from his evil gun.  There are lots more dogs being put into different vans to go to other places. Sylvia tells us “This has been a huge operation with lots of different charities working together to save you... You are very lucky girls”.

Already I love Sylvia, she has said more to me in the last 10 minutes than the bad man has in my whole life.  I am lifted into a big crate in the back of the van.  It is clean and has lots of warm blankets and space to stretch my short legs.  We set off on our journey and within minutes all seven of us are fast asleep. 

I am awoken to the sound of lots of voices whispering.  Kind humans are lifting us gently out of the crates and carrying us into a warm building with bright lights.  A man with soft eyes and green clothes is waiting by a tall table.  We are each lifted onto the table and the man rubs his hands gently over our burnt and sore bodies.  “My god”, he says, “What that monster did to these poor souls is disgusting.  I hope he gets what’s coming to him”.  He rubs cream into my poorly skin and pops a tablet into my mouth and I feel a sharp pain in my neck.  But I don’t cry out, I know bad pain, and something tells me this gentle man would never harm us.

Eventually we are ready to go.  We are carried to a long row of large rooms.  The rooms have a door with grating on the front, three large baskets inside and a big orange light on the ceiling.  The light has heat coming out of it.  The room looks much better than the smelly cage.  “Welcome to your kennel”, says a friendly voice.  “I’m Cathy and I’ll look after you now”.  Cathy is younger than Sylvia and has long brown hair, she has a big smile on her face and a navy blue sweatshirt with a picture of a dog on it.  “Don’t worry, this isn’t your forever home.  This is just where you stay while we wait for your new families to come and meet you”. 

Myself and two of the other adult Bassets including the blind puppy’s mother, and of course the puppy, are put in one cage and the other three next door.  We are wide awake after sleeping on the journey and whisper excitedly to each other about our adventure.  In just a few hours I have gone from being on my own in a dark smelly cage to a warm cosy basket in a warm kennel with three brand new friends.  Suddenly I think everything is going to be alright.

Over the next few weeks, we all grow much stronger, we have two good meals a day.  We can lift ourselves up and move round the kennel slowly.  The people take us out of the kennels and carry us to the exercise area.  I don’t like the feel of the grass under my feet, it feels strange and I still have such pain from my burns so I don’t walk far.  We get stroked and washed by kind humans with soft warm hands.  But best of all we are all given names!  A name for me!  My name is Canada.  The other Bassets in my group are named Buttercup and Daisy, and Daisys baby is Bridget.  We all adore Bridget, she is such a little mischief.  She is blind so needs lots more care than other puppies but with three mothers lavishing attention on her she is looked after like a princess.

After a month or so, Buttercup, Daisy and Bridget are strong enough to be rehomed.  Over a few days each of them say their goodbyes and are taken away to meet their new families.  Their forever homes.  Ever since Cathy told us about the forever homes we have talked of nothing else.  A family of our own, to love us and let us love them.

After my friends leave I am very lonely.  It’s not like being back at the farm because there are plenty of caring humans always popping in to give me cuddles, food, an extra blanket, or to try and get me to go for a walk with them but I don’t like the feel of the lead around my neck and when it is put on I sit down on the ground and refuse to walk and the humans sit down on the ground with me and give me a scratch on the ear and sigh “Oh Canada, what are we going to do with you?”  I keep thinking about my forever home and wondering if it really exists or if it’s just a fantasy.

Then one day I am sat in my basket having a little scratch when one of the men, Peter, comes to get me.  “Come on little one,” he whispers, “I’ve got some very nice people waiting to meet you”.  I am very nervous and when he puts me down to put the lead on I lie down and give him my sad eyes.  He shakes his head with a smile and lifts me up.  “It’s a good job you’re as light as a feather”, he chuckles.

Peter carries me out into the exercise yard and waiting for us is a family.   A mum, a dad, and two children.  And a Basset!  Like me!  Except she is a lemon and white and I am a tri-colour and she is bigger than me.  Peter places me down on the ground next to her.  She lets out a big sigh and lies down on the ground.  “You want a cuddle?”  she asks me quietly.  “yes please”, I answer with tears in my eyes.  I lay my head on her warm back, she smells so nice, like a home.  I look up at the family, they all have tears in their eyes too. 

“What do you think then?”,  asks Peter expectantly. 

“We’ll take her, we’re going to call her Carly.” the mum lady is sat on the floor gently tickling my ears. 

“I’m Bess, you’re new big sister”, says the other Basset, “wait til you see your forever home”.

THE END