Judy is a Substack fan of mine, and she recently told me about her own dog, Ella. Her story describes the psychological trauma of life in a puppy mill better than anything I could write.

Ella Grace

Ella was a breeding dog rescued from a puppy mill. Hats off to Judy and her husband for their love and patience with this little girl. Here’s what Judy had to say:

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“I’m reading A Dog Named 647 and think it should be required reading for every adult! Our last dog, Tessie the Westie, came from a puppy mill, unbeknownst to us. A year after her death, we adopted a little Yorkie, a rescue from a puppy mill. She had been having puppies for five years. The poor thing was a mess, with a cauliflower ear, skin infections, cough, and totally afraid of people and animals. She never made eye contact, paced around the room, lifting her leg to pee on everything. She struggled to get out of my arms when I picked her up.

Ella Grace at the time of her adoption. Chronic licking caused her fur staining.

A small Yorkie is usually adopted in a flash, but ten different parties viewed her and rejected her at the shelter. My husband and I struggled; could we love her or were we just saving her? The shelter worker was about to offer us just about anything to take her. He wanted to give us a senior discount and another discount for adopting a senior dog! It wasn’t a matter of money, it was whether we’d be able to handle the complications. So we took her (and I’ve covered those discounts many times over in donations to the shelter!).

They had called her Gizmo. We renamed her Ella Grace, after a Chicago policewoman who had been killed in a traffic stop, but who loved and saved dogs. On Thursday, we will celebrate three years of loving her. It was difficult to get close to a dog who doesn’t love you back. She has never licked our faces or hands, poked us with her nose for tummy rubs, or willingly sat on our laps. On walks, she used to hide behind my husband’s legs when approached by man or beast. She does not know how to play with toys, even when I’ve tried to teach her by crawling around with toys in my mouth.

So, do we love her? With all our hearts! It has given us such joy to see her personality unfold. She has learned to trust us. Slowly at first. After about a year, she would race to the door when we returned from errands. She’d wiggle her little butt and wag her little cropped tail then run back to her bed. Now, she still races to us but lets us pet her, and I can pick her up from behind and nuzzle her neck. She allows it. After many trips to a canine dermatologist, applications of antibiotics/fungicides twice daily to her ears for months, medicated baths, tablets, etc for the first 7 months we had her…or she had us.

Ellie has bad dreams every day. They are not like the happy ones Tessie and our other dogs used to have, when they would seem like they were running. These are cries like she is struggling and gasping and snorting. We’ll call her name or call her baby or peanut or my monkey, and she’ll wake up. This probably happens all night long and it’s so sad. She used to carry small stuffed toys in her mouth and put them in her bed and lie on them, but not every day anymore. And she goes outside to do her business and races right back into the house. It took about a year of carrying her outside because she wouldn’t climb down one step. She barks a darling little bark when she wants something…like us to be with her inside if we’re outside…or meals. She went from eating God knows what for five years, to frozen raw duck. (and a bit of homemade bread that my husband sneaks to her.) He sometimes says she’s gone from the outhouse to the penthouse.

It’s still not a normal situation. She’s very gentle and sweet and never snarls but she doesn’t appreciate anyone’s attention and gets reclusive. Our son-in-law pays her a lot of attention when he’s here, and she’ll allow it. In fact, she cuddled on the couch with him when he babysat her overnight. He’s the only one. But that’s okay. She’s like a blossom that is unfolding, a little at a time. So, that’s the story of our little Ella Grace.”

“Like a blossom that is unfolding, a little at a time.” This perfectly summarizes this process of rehabilitating a puppy mill breeding dog? Patience is everything. My thanks to Judy and her husband for making one little dog’s life a whole lot better.

Best wishes to you and your four-legged family members for abundant good health,

Dr. Nancy

DrNancyKay.com

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