(permission to crosspost)
March 18, 2011
A letter from a dog breeder some time in the future:
In my last few hours I have chosen to spend my time writing this letter?hoping it may one day reach the eyes of many. But I no longer have that kind of faith. I once did. I once believed in truth, in logic, in rationality. Not any more. The time of rational thought has gone to pass leaving us only with the irrational.
I will not make excuses for what I have done. I deserve to die. It was not my place to take a life, just as it was not their place to take others. Still, two wrongs do not make a right. I can only hope that my choice will bring about change. Even if that change is the realization about how fragile our world has become.
Like so many others I read the stories in the paper. I watched the notices on the internet. I heard that the animal rights movement was gaining power but I was slow to believe. no I was in denial. that it would ever come to my front door. My home is rural, my neighbors far away, and because of my location I was breaking no laws. There were no city restrictions. In the twenty five years I have lived as a dog breeder, loving what I do (living to love what I do) I never imagined myself as a killer. A murderer. Capable of snuffing out the lives of other human beings without a second thought.
I suppose none of us knows what we are capable of until it comes to that moment in time.
A dog breeder. That's what I was. A villain cultivated by the media as some sort of cruel and inhuman entity. But that is not what I was because now that I have nothing I can become the thing that they hated and despised. now with what was important to me stripped away. my conscience has no chains. I am the monster which they have created.
While I accept my burden of guilt the public still ignores theirs. The ignorance which has infected our society is malignant and it's fatal. The lack of responsibility, the lack of accepting responsibility, the sudden surge of entitlement, the loss of pride and the rise of laziness, it has swallowed all reason and pride. What happened to respecting differences, encouragement of self betterment, finding hope in the struggle for success in whatever business venture one chose to pursue.
I chose to breed dogs. I was good at what I did. I lived and breathed my animals and my life was theirs.
Committed.
I was committed.
Everything I did revolved around the needs of my animals and yet so many believed the rhetoric. That somehow making money by selling puppies was wrong. Sinful. Evil.
Even those who save lives have the right to earn a living. Who decides what work is elevated beyond monetary gain?
The public is too willing to believe that breeding was somehow the cause of unwanted animals and not a person's irresponsibility. That producing a puppy here in my home caused a man three thousand miles away to starve his dog to death. That taking money for a puppy I made, somehow caused a stray to have a litter of unwanted puppies under the porch of a broken down old home place. That by wanting to bring happiness to myself and others I condemned unwanted and forgotten dogs to death.
My dogs were not unwanted and they will never be forgotten.
Why can't the public see the real cause? Why do they choose to blame and point fingers?
It is not my fault they abused their pet.
It is not my fault that they got rid of their dog because they didn?t account for time to train it.
It is not my fault that they failed to spay that bitch and now have a litter of unwanted pets to deal with.
It is not my fault that in choosing to breed their pet they bit off more than they could chew and the puppies did not sell and they did not realize the type of space, work and time it takes to raise a litter.
It is not my fault that they let their pet run loose and it was lost.
It makes about as much sense as blaming one spoke in the great wheel of society for all the social upheaval and committing to erasing a people one life at a time.
When they took Lisa's dogs I knew things were grave. Like so many before her she thought since she was doing nothing wrong. So she let them in. Poor Lisa, she had nothing to hide. While we were never really friends her dogs were nice and like so many of us she had a wall full of ribbons representing her dedication. But it didn't stop them. Not the ribbons, not the club memberships, not the vet records, not the declaration of others to her dedication and love. I even wrote a letter on her behalf. Maybe that's why they decided I was next. Not that it really matters. Eventually they would have found their way to my door.
Lisa fought hard. She was smart, she was shrewd but the papers vilified her with their ignorance and the public in their inability to reason swallowed the lies like air. The minor upkeep that every dog needs became the fuel for the fire. Ironic when vets make their living on those same shortfalls. And yet no one stands by their door waiting to handcuff anyone who has a dog with dirty ears, a mat under the leg, or a watery eye. The public is allowed to seek over the counter care for their children yet only professionals may assist a pet.
In this new age of ignorance we want to believe the worst. We don?t want to think for ourselves. Thinking hurts. Thinking requires reason. It?s easier just to be told. It?s easier just to do or not do.
When Lisa was killed in that freak accident part of me found solace in the fact it was over for her. She could finally rest. She wanted to rest. I could see it in her eyes. The lawyers she hired fought for her but she was still drowning in it all. The public wanted her to be wrong. The public wanted her to be the villain they had come to believe. But even with her death it wasn?t over because the onslaught of joyous cries from the animal rights groups grated like claws on the backs of my eyes as I read their comments circulating on the internet.
How she deserved to die.
How justice had been served.
How this was the sentence that all dog breeders should face.
When I was a child I used to read about the atrocities of one nation against another. How one group of people different by race, culture, or religion (it doesn't matter) could look upon another group of human beings and destroy them. Not because were a threat. Not because they were fighting for resources that dictated survival. But because they didn't like what the other race, culture, or religion did. We look back on many of these epic exterminations and we shake our heads. We see the wrong in the choices that were made and realized how precious those differences were. They were human beings. And no matter how much I love my dogs, how beautiful or unique a rare bird species is, how intelligent and stunning a particular wild animal may be, they are not people. As humans we are the most rare of all species on this planet and while we should take care of it, we should not be willing to sacrifice each other. We are the only species on this planet that writes novels, paints pictures, creates music. We are the only species on this planet that actually cares and has concerns for others not of our own. Whether those defining traits are divine or by evolution it doesn?t matter. The truth is, it is precious and above all it should be preserved.
And yet, some how the life of animals has surpassed in value to the life of men.
I read the posts and emails, heard the banter on the news, over and over until it became a constant hum in the back of mind. Growing and aching like a black cancer. The knowledge of my helplessness had finally metastasized and every cell in my body was infected.
It took them three years, almost four before they came to my door, after they torched Mike?s kennel, and poisoned thirty three of Annie?s dogs. I did not let them in. Three of them headed to my kennel and when I protested I was told to shut up by the four standing beside the truck. I was told I couldn't deny letting them in, they had authority, self-proclaimed, imagined, or not.
A republic. That's what this country was supposed to be. Where the government followed the laws and leaves the people alone. And when I demanded an explanation from the officer accompanying them I was ignored. I told them to get out. I told them to leave. I got in their way and I was pushed aside. They came with trucks, with cages, and crates. They came to take what was mine! What I had worked for, what I bled for, and now?now what I die for! They came to take my life! They came to take my purpose. They came to take my freedom and my happiness and leave me an empty shell!
The cop stood by and watched. Not helping but not stopping them either. Oblivious to his duty to protect my rights. Oblivious to stopping them from taking what was mine. If it had been money would he have allowed them to invade my property and take what was not theirs? If it had been cars or jewelry would these common thieves have been so brazen as to ask for police escort to help?
When they brought out the crow bar to pry open the locked door, I knew that this was it. I had a choice. To stand idly by and let them take what was mine, my liberty, my rights, my property, my life. or stop them at all cost.
(continued ...)
