Misery
by JoAnn VanDersarl

The burning stench of ammonia and feces burned my nostrils as I drew my first breath. Something warm and moist soothed me as I rolled onto the hard, metal grating. Later, when my eyes opened, I saw her for the first time. Her name was Misery and she was my mother. All of us were called Misery and it was difficult to tell one of us from the other because of the condition we were in.

My heart aches when I think of Misery. In my dreams at night I can still see her dirty, feces-covered fur and I can still feel her sadness and her hopelessness as it pierces every part of my being. The pads of her paws were raw and bleeding from standing in her own urine and feces for so long. Her skin was raw and bleeding in many places because her mats had become so hard and so tightly bound to her skin that her fur was pulled out at the roots. In my dreams, she desperately cries out and I run to her and set her free, leading her to this wonderful place that I’ve learned about. This new place is my home.

There were many families like mine stacked in cages barely big enough to allow our mothers to turn around in. The sound of barking dogs, whimpering puppies and the desperate moans of our mothers filled the putrid air there and was only occasionally interrupted by the scraping sound of the rusty food bin as the Misery man drug it from cage to cage. Our water bowls were filled with slimy green-brown goo, the result of bacterial and mold growth. It was terribly cold in the winter and horribly hot in the summer. In the summer time, the flies laid their eggs in the filth that collected in the bottom of our cage. Later maggots would develop into a churning mass beneath our feet. The maggots sometimes infested Misery’s open wounds, causing her to moan and cry out in pain.

When I was six weeks old, the man came for me. My mother cried as he dropped me into a box filled with other puppies and carried me away into the sunlight. The water felt cold and stung my skin as he sprayed me with it. Then he put a pill in my throat to kill the worms. I was cold and shivering when he put me into the cage in the back of the truck. “What is this new smell?” I wondered, as I sniffed myself. It was only later that I realized that the new smell that puzzled me so much was called “clean.” My old smell, the pungent odor of urine and feces, had been the only smell I had ever known until then. Terrified, the other puppies and I huddled together as the truck rattled beneath us. When the truck stopped, the man carried us through a back door, where the pet store man was waiting. He looked us over and handed the man a wad of cash.

The pet store man put each of us in a cage behind a window. One by one, people came and traded cash for Misery. As each cage emptied, the Misery Man would come through the back door and fill them up again with more and more of Misery’s puppies, which he traded for cash. The shelves in the pet store were filled with boxes and bags. Visitors came to the store and exchanged cash for the boxes and bags and as the shelves emptied, a man would arrive and trade more boxes and bags for cash. The pet store man called all of this “merchandise” but I knew better. My name was Misery and nothing would ever change that. They could call us whatever they liked but we would all always be Misery.

One morning as I laid in my cage, a little girl came and stared at me through the window. She jumped up and down with delight as she pointed at me and yelled, “Daddy, Daddy, I want THIS one!” The pet store man took me out of my cage and handed me to the little girl. She cuddled me in her arms as her father and the pet store man discussed things like pedigree and the nice place that I had come from. Her father seemed pleased and gave the pet store man a wad of cash.

My new home is a wonderful place filled with feelings and experiences that I had never known and never could have imagined before I came here. My new family gave me love and a new name but a large part of me will always be Misery. This thing called “love” that I’ve come to know so well causes me so much pain – a pain deep in my heart because love always reminds me of all of the things my mother will never know.

My mother will never know the way grass feels on her paws and she’ll never experience the playful joy of simple things that I have known, such as chasing a grasshopper for the first time or dancing beneath a butterfly as it flutters just above her head in the sunshine. She’ll never know the warmth and love given by a little girl as she wraps her arms around her neck, kisses her and whispers “I love you SO much” into her ear. My mother will never know what a toy is or the joy of chasing a ball. She’ll never know that life can be free of pain and sorrow. My mother will never know love and she will never be set free from her cage or her Misery. My mother will never feel happiness. The only thing that my mother will ever know is Misery. Misery is her life and her only purpose in life is to fill the pet store cages with more Misery.

As long as people buy Misery at the pet store, my mother will be forced to provide more and more Misery to fill the empty cages.

In my dreams, I still run to her and save her but I’m grown up now and now I know that I could have only saved her if people had never traded cash for me. If people never trade cash for Misery, there would never be a need for me and other puppies like me. People could save my mother if only they would love her as much as they love me and simply walk away from puppies like us. Finally, I wish people understood that there is no such thing as rescuing us from the pet stores because rescuing us only creates more Misery for our mothers. Rescuing us from pet stores empties cages and creates demand for more Misery.

Last night I had a dream about my mother. She touched the grass and danced playfully beneath a fluttering butterfly for the first time. Her heart was filled with joy for the first time and my heart was filled with overwhelming delight as I watched her chase a ball for the first time. I cried tears of relief and happiness as I watched a little girl wrap her tiny arms around her, kiss her and whisper, “I love you SO much, Annie.”

Last night I dreamed that you adopted a homeless puppy from a shelter. Last night I dreamed that you saved my mother.

Please remember Misery.