This is a series of diaries highlighting animal rescues around the country and noting and celebrating the work they do to help animals who have no voices but ours to speak for them. I have decided to make this a daily series because there are so many wonderful rescues out there who need human help and weekly just doesn't seem to be enough. I have long wanted to start a rescue but lack the resources or time available to do so right now so this is my attempt to do my part. I hope that these rescues will benefit from the kindness and benevolence of the community here at Daily Kos. They are amazing organizations and worthy of Kossack attention and care.
Now that I'm home, bathed, settled and fed
All nicely tucked into my warm new bed
I'd like to open my baggage
Lest I forget
There is so much to carry-
So much to regret. Hmmmm…..
Yes, there it is, right on the top.
Let's unpack Loneliness, Heartache and Loss
And there by my bed, hide Fear and Shame
As I look on these things I tried hard to leave
I still have to unpack my baggage called Pain
I love them, the others, the ones who left me
But I was not good enough - For they did not want me.
Will you add to my baggage?
Or will you help me unpack?
Or will you just look at my things -
And take me right back?
Do you have the time to help me unpack?
To put away my baggage
And never repack?
I pray that you do - I'm so tired you see
But I do come with baggage -
Will you still want me?
Author Unknown
National Mill Dog Rescue
The website is here
You can donate here
Adoption information is here
Mission Statement
To rescue, rehabilitate and rehome discarded breeding dogs and to educate the general public about the cruel realities of the commercial dog breeding industry.
We are a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization located in Peyton, CO
Why We Do What We Do
National Mill Dog Rescue was established in February 2007, in honor of a forgiving little Italian Greyhound named Lily. Theresa Strader, NMDR’s Founder and Executive Director, rescued Lily from a dog auction in Missouri. Prior to that day, Lily had spent the first seven years of her life as a commercial breeding dog, a puppy mill mom. Determined that her years of living in misery would not be in vain, Strader started NMDR, giving a voice to mill dogs across the country.
During her years as a breeding dog, Lily spent all of her days confined to a small, cold wire cage in a dark, foul-smelling barn. Never was she removed from her cage for exercise or socialization. In her dreary confines, Lily was forced to produce one litter after another with no respite. Like all commercial breeding dogs, she was a veritable breeding machine whose worth was measured in only one way – her ability to produce puppies.
By seven years of age, Lily was worn out. Commonplace in the industry, she had received little to no veterinary care throughout her life, the result of which, for her, was terribly disturbing. Due to years of no dental care, poor quality food, rabbit bottle watering and no appropriate chew toys, the roof of Lily’s mouth and lower jaw, had rotted away. Her chest was riddled with mammary tumors and she was absolutely terrified of people.
Strader brought Lily and twelve others home from the auction and declares that even for a highly seasoned rescuer, the following months were the education of a lifetime in rehabilitation. That she would take up the cause for the mill dogs was never in question and National Mill Dog Rescue was promptly underway. In five short years, NMDR has amassed over 1,300 volunteers and has rescued over 8,400 puppy mill survivors.
Run almost solely by volunteers, NMDR has pledged to put an end to the cruelty of the puppy mill industry. Through widespread informative efforts, NMDR hopes to educate the public to acquire their companion animals through reputable breeders or better yet, from shelters and rescue groups across the country.
After her rescue, Lily spent the remainder of her life as a beloved member of the Strader family where she received medical care, warmth and companionship. In time, Lily found courage and her disfigured little body educated countless people about the horrors of the puppy mill industry. Lily died, at home, peacefully, in the arms of her loving dad with her family gathered around, in May 2008, fifteen months after she was rescued.
Donate Items
Cleaning and sanitation supplies
Metal pooper scoopers
Plastic garden type pump sprayer
Chlorine bleach, paper towels, HE liquid laundry detergent, etc.
Disposable surgical gloves, gowns and booties
Long handled squeegees, angled brooms, dustpans, string mops and heads that are stitched along the bottom
Sponge mops and replacement heads
New vacuum cleaner
Long garden hose and power nozzle
Trash bags, 4-40 gallon
Office supplies
Printer paper
4×6″ clear adhesive pockets.
Dog needs
Potty pads
Small washable dog beds
Crate pads
Collars (small and medium)
Adjustable harnesses (small and medium)
Martingale collars (medium and large)
Tough, durable toys
Miscellaneous
Gasoline station gift cards.
Metal Ex-Pens (30″ to 48″ high)
Pre-paid gas cards for the rescues
Duct tape
64 Quart Rubbermaid/Sterilite type containers with lids
Dog food
Canned and dry foods are needed. However, rescued mill dogs have very specific nutritional needs, due to the poor quality food they received in the mills. There are many suitable foods that we prefer to use, available, locally in a number of stores. We use small dog foods, regular adult food, puppy food, and senior food. Also, some of our special needs dogs require grain-free foods. Here are some of the brands we use:
Wellness and Wellness Core
Taste of the Wild
Canidae
Tiki Dog
Nature’s Variety
Evo
Merrick Natura
Mulligan Stew
Blue Buffalo
Sport Stew
Innova
Wysong
California Natural
Weruva
Nature’s Logic
Natural Balance
Instinct
Castor and Pollox
Orijen
Newman’s Own
Evanger’s
Eagle Pack
Karma
Fromm
Solid Gold
Timberwolf Organics
Old Mother Hubbard
Costco
We also need Cesar’s canned or Pedigree ground for giving meds to our little dogs.
High dollar items
Monetary donations are always needed for our operating expenses.
Lily's Story
JWritten by – Rich Strader
Lily is the love and the light of my life. If you’ve ever had a special dog like Lily, then you will understand right away what I’m talking about. If you haven’t… read on.
Lily was born, raised and perhaps had 13 litters of puppies at the Reedgate Kennels before we were able to buy her at auction. Her time there was spent in a wire cage with a board to sleep on and a rabbit water bottle to drink from. While in the mill she received little or no vet care and because of this she lost all her teeth and her lower jaw rotted off, which is not unusual for the smaller breeds in the puppy mills. Everything that was precious to her was taken away (her puppies). The human hand brought only misery.
When she came to me I took her to work everyday and she slept in the warmth of my Irish Wolfhound’s stomach. She slowly learned to trust and in seven months she would come to me to get on my lap! She now loves all humans as no one will ever hurt her again. As you can see from the picture on the right she has her silly moments and keeps a lookout so she won’t get caught!
Lily is my inspiration. She can teach anyone about love, courage and the ability to forgive. Unfortunately the cancer she acquired through years of neglect is now close to ending her life. I have promised her she will never be alone again and I will be with her at the end. To date she is responsible for saving over 7700 dogs as she is the inspiration and founder of MDRN.
Lily died in my arms May 13, 2008. She will be missed.
Lily's Poems
n Memory of Lily
She withstood her life of misery
Her cage was her domain
The hopelessness, the loneliness
She was a number with no name.
Her eyes had never glistened
No love, her heart had known
Her cries were never answered
Her doom was hers, alone.
Her body, torn and tattered
So weak, so thin and frail
Her small sweet face disfigured,
As she languished in her jail.
Like the others all around her
From neglect she lived in pain
Oh, humans void of heart and souls
Were surely those to blame.
Shrouded behind secrecy
They perpetuate their lies
The puppy mills breed misery
Kept hidden from our eyes.
Then breaking thru the darkness
An angel brought the light
Reaching down with kindness
To alleviate this plight.
And so a few were taken
To be given a new start
And a mission was now realized
From deep within a heart.
Discarded were the numbers,
Now Lily was her name
She was nurtured now and cared for
And the others, just the same.
She responded to the kindness
She was kissed upon her head
Each night as she lay sleeping
In her warm and cozy bed.
From beginnings that were tragic
Lily now embraced the love
But she would only stay a minute
She had lessons up above.
Her life brought inspiration
She taught her humans well
About courage and conviction
To save others from the hell.
Lily’s life had purpose
As she endured such strife and pain
She emerged with great forgiveness
Oh, her life was not in vain.
Now the cozy bed is empty
But Lily’s memory lingers still
And hundreds more will follow
…..Rescued from the mill.
Bari Mears
Copyright 2008
Lily – A Tribute
She sat to the rear of her small wire cage, her world confined to here
For seven long years, this filth was home, so my eyes were filled with tears.
Her teeth were gone, her jaw had rot, her spirit nearly done
Yet in her stare, I found a plea, and I couldn’t just walk on.
I made a vow right then and there to take her from this place
And in my heart, forever more, was the image of her face.
I bid for her at auction, like the prisoner she had been
And determined that the price be damned, for this one I would win.
I took her home, with my embrace, her life begun anew
I wished I could have saved them all and brought them freedom too.
But in this sweet forgiving soul, I found the strength to start
For all those dogs who live this way are forever in my heart.
For one short year, sweet Lily knew the love she’d been denied
And so it was, in loving arms, she slipped away and died.
Her suffering was at an end, but not before she knew
What life was like outside a cage, and love could be so true.
For one short year, sweet Lily knew the love she’d been denied
And so it was, in loving arms, she slipped away and died.
Her suffering was at an end, but not before she knew
What life was like outside a cage, and love could be so true.
It is her gentle spirit that guides me in this quest
To change the fate of those still there, for that I will not rest.
There are ten thousand Lily’s still waiting to be freed
Each one of them in misery, and all of them in need.
Please share her tale with others and help them know the pain
A business cruel and ugly to be held in great disdain.
We owe it to them all to stop this heartless trade.
On the misery of innocents…tainted profit to be made.
I know sweet Lily watches the bitter tears I shed
For her and all the others who did suffer and are dead.
But in her name we rescue as many as we can
A journey that I hope can redeem the soul of man.
To Lily – our beloved angel!
Susie Bell
Copyright 2008
A Message From Theresa to Lily’s Breeder
Two days after Lily died, my husband and I, stricken with grief, retreated to the mountains for a couple of days of peace and quiet. While there, I felt the need to write a letter to Lily’s breeder, my attempt to share with her Lily’s pain and certainly my attempt to let go of some of my own.
A couple of days ago (12/7/08), I took the letter out and read it. I cried for an hour straight, remembering the sadness, the anger and the grief we felt when we buried Lily. Now, seven months later, I feel some strange sort of thanks, some appreciation to this woman for giving me the inspiration to make things different and to do it all in honor of Lily.
I have chosen to keep the breeder’s full name anonymous as I have always maintained that knowing these names truly has no affect on the problem at hand. This also keeps my battle with her very private – just between her and me.
I share this letter with you to reaffirm what Mill Dog Rescue is about for me and that despite the many changes and growth we’ve experienced, the fight will always be about the dogs.
May 15, 2008
Dear Martha,
It’s been fifteen months since you and I first met. More than likely, you remember very little about me. After all, we met in your world, on your property in fact. Since that day, elements of your world have become a very big part of mine. For that, myself and many like-minded people are very thankful to you.
In February 2007, I received an email – “50 Italian Greyhounds in need” and with that, a phone number. Having had a lifetime affinity for the breed, I called the number to find out what the story was and how I might be able to help. I’m certain you know where this letter is going now.
Yes, February 17, 2007, after 40+ years, your kennel would be going out of business. Time to retire and relax after four decades of mistreating dogs. Five hundred and sixty one dogs would head to the auction blocks that day, 49 were Italian Greyhounds. It was without question that I would help, though I must admit, I had no idea what I would come to learn through the process. Due to transportation issues, I realized that if I were to be of any use to these dogs, I would have to drive out to Lamar myself. So, on the 16th of February, my daughter and I headed to Missouri.
Understand, I’ve been involved in dog rescue essentially my entire life – fostering and placing homeless dogs, caring for sick or injured dogs, assisting overpopulated shelters, etc. I have always known about puppy mills and pet store puppies but have never shared my home with anything other than rescued animals. For the record, I AM NOT AN ANIMAL RIGHTS ACTIVIST. What I am is a person who believes in the right to humane treatment for all living things.
Martha, what I witnessed on your property was far from humane. Hundreds of terrified ailing faces, imprisoned in their wire confines, some staring at me, but most too fearful to look into my eyes, so unsure of how to interpret human contact. That experience has caused me countless sleepless nights and to this very day, the sadness and the fear in their eyes haunts my very being.
I am completely aware that you were operating well within USDA standards – what a despicable thought that is. I am also aware that in your circles, commercial breeding dogs are considered livestock. Dogs are not livestock, Martha. Thousands of years ago, man domesticated dogs to be our protectors, hunters, herders, guardians, but most of all, our companions.
I came home with thirteen of your dogs – nine Italian Greyhounds, two Dachshunds and two Papillons. Not a single dog that I had cared for in over 25 years of rescue work came anywhere close to the physical and emotional damage that your dogs had suffered. As it related to rescuing dogs, the next several months would become the education of a lifetime for me.
The entire purpose of this letter though, is about just one of those dogs, the one who would find her forever home here with my family….. #251 – AKC registered “Reedgate’s Swift Motion”. Oh, the irony of her name – Swift Motion – an Italian Greyhound who was never able to run. Caging her for her entire life stripped her of ever having enough strength in her legs to experience the joy of running. A cruel reality for a breed built to run.
In our home, we cut the chain from her neck, replaced it with a soft collar and named her Lily. At the age of seven years and one month Lily had been set free.
Lily was one of several of your dogs that was missing her lower jaw. I wonder how you might explain why so many of your dogs were suffering from this condition. I wonder if you were ever concerned about their pain or perhaps about how they were able to eat enough to stay alive. I wonder how many died in your care from the results of this condition. I wonder if you even noticed. I’m very certain you did notice one thing beyond the rotting faces though – their ability to produce puppies. That’s what your business is all about – producing puppies, at any expense.
Lily became an absolute treasure in our home. Despite her many health issues and her extreme fear, in time, with lots of love and care, she found her courage and when she did, no one was immune to her love. Men, women and children brought to tears to hear her story and to have the untold pleasure of meeting her. Lily’s life was no longer about what she could do for you but instead, how we could make it up to her in a warm and loving home.
It was agonizing for our family to watch her suffer through four surgeries to remove mammary tumors, to attempt to repair her decaying face and to spay her — removing the papery black, pus filled organ that was once her uterus. How selfish of you never to see her pain, just the dollars.
Directly because of your gross neglect, every meal Lily ate was a struggle. We tried so many foods and so many different ways to make it easier for her to eat. But in the end, she had to do it her way, the way she learned at your place, the way she kept herself alive for you – picking kibbles out of her bowl, a few at a time with her feet, spreading them around the floor, then rubbing the “good” side of her face along the floor to catch a kibble on her tongue, then extending her neck upwards and swallowing it whole. Think about that, Martha. How would you like to eat just one meal that way?
Do you remember sitting in my car when the auction was over? The guys were gathering up the dogs that I had “won”. You said to me, “I just love my Italian Greyhounds”. Oh, the thoughts that went through my mind when those words came out of your mouth. You don’t love any dogs, Martha. What you did was spend more than forty years of your God given life using dogs for your personal gain. No regard to their physical or mental well-being, just cashing in on their ability to reproduce. Think about the thousands of dogs that passed through your hands – you robbed every single one of them of the simple joys they so deserve. A good meal, a warm and comfortable place to sleep, medical attention, and most of all, a human companion to make their lives whole.
Lily learned so much in our home – about being a family member, being a dog, being worthy. I will always be bothered that she never learned how to run or really how to play. But she learned how to love and be loved and for that, there are no words. She changed our lives forever.
Lily died on May 13, 2008 at the age of eight – about half the life expectancy for an Italian Greyhound. Martha, she died as a direct result of the neglect she suffered for seven years in your care. How many others have suffered the same fate?
This industry has been hidden far too long. The word is out, the days are numbered. People like you will soon venture out into fields of honest work and leave the care of God’s creatures to those of us who truly love them.
Theresa Strader