They Call Me Angel (A Rescued Breeding Sheltie)

I ask myself sometimes, what did I do to deserve this? Was I a bad dog? Did I do something wrong to upset the Tall Ones? I look around me and see that all the other dogs around me are in cages. Is this the kind of life all dogs live? We never get to play together, we never get to run on that green stuff called grass, we never leave these cages. Ever. This is home for me.

This was me when I was first rescued

Day in and day out, I sit in my little prison and do nothing. Nothing but count the minutes away until the Tall Ones come and force a male dog on me. Then my belly becomes full with my babies. Puppies that are born and which I care for only for a short while before they are taken from me. I don't know where they all go. I never see them again.

Then one day, I find myself outside. On the roads, all alone and wandering around, free of my cage. Free! I'm free! But as I try to run, to stretch my legs for the first time, I find that I could not. I take a step and stumble. My back foot was bleeding from a gaping hole around my nail. I had forgotten about that. I had numbed myself to the constant pain I had been feeling for more than a week. Where am I going to go now? How am I going to move fast enough not to be run over by these large scary metal things rumbling past me? Resigned to my fate I curl up near a shadeless tree and lick at my wound. If I could cry, I would. If I could scream for help, I would. Many times I have wanted to take my own life, to end my miserable existence; too bad dogs can't commit suicide. I would have been free from all the pain, suffering and cruelty.

Dirty ears

"Hi sweetie, are you ok? It's alright girl. I'm not going to hurt you." I look up and see a kindly old man with a smile on his face and love in his eyes. He patted me and stroked my dirty matted fur. His was the first kind touch I've felt in my life, the first kind words I've heard. I placed all my trust in him and prayed and hoped that my life would change.


I was taken to a vet and examined. My foot was swollen and I heard the vet say that my nail may have to be amputated if the infection doesn't go away. She prodded at my wound and I was praised for being a brave little girl, never once did I wince or snap. "Oh my goodness!" I heard someone exclaim. "Look at all the maggots in her wound! And she's also covered in ticks!" I think someone gagged at this point. The vet cleaned out the hole around my nail and removed all the maggots. The vet also commented that the hole in the wound was too deep and they could not reach the maggots inside. They had to patiently wait and clean the wound daily.

I looked so malnourished and old beyond my age

Holes in my paw

Maggots from the wound on my paw

The nurses at the vet shaved me down and did her best to remove all the ticks, leaving only the scars from their bites on my skin. "She'll also need to be sterilized and her womb removed as soon as possible - she's got pyometra. Her uterus is infected and filled with pus." Pyo-what? In the flurry of activity around me, I managed to grasp that I was in a terrible condition. I am what is known as "breeding stock" for a puppy mill. The Tall Ones probably realised my uterus was sick and I couldn't make puppies anymore and left me out to die. I was nothing but a puppy making machine, churning out stuff they could sell until I was broken and couldn't make anything anymore, then I was conveniently disposed.

My very first human touch

The darker shadow portion shows the deep open wounds in my paw

All cleaned and bandaged up!

I am currently at the home of a very kind lady. She has 3 great kids and they all helped to take the pain and suffering of my earlier years away. They introduced me to the inside of a home, to tables, sofas, the sounds and smells of a kitchen, to grass! They showed me what I had been missing all my life; what I had been deprived of by the wicked Tall Ones. They helped to heal my foot wound (no need for amputation!) and are helping to make me strong and healthy with each passing day. They gave me a glimpse of what it was like to have a home, a family, a real life.

They named me Angel.

A much happier me at a Sheltie gathering! Can you see my smile?

Sadly, the kind lady cannot keep me for much longer. I don't want to go back to my old life. I'm begging for someone out there who will want to love me and keep me safe, to let me lead the life that dogs are supposed to live, to play and be content lying nearby. I just need someone to be patient with me while I learn about the world I never saw or knew before. I really won't be much trouble. Rescued dogs are usually very well-behaved and grateful for being given a new lease of life. I don't understand language so you would need to teach me like you would, a young child. No one has ever spoken to me. Despite all that the Tall Ones have done, I still love people and am always happy when I meet kind souls. I really hope someone will want me. I really hope someone will give me a new place to call home. I really hope someone will be my family. Please.


To foster or adopt Angel the rescued Sheltie, please contact Michelle at 9339 9889


(Update 5 April 2011: Angel the Sheltie has been adopted!)

Written by Michelle Chan