Dr. Conrad Murray helps educate the public on Puppy Mills

So, I started this blog with the intention of being humorous and keeping an online diary of our quirky family antics.  As a result of laziness more than anything, I haven't updated in quite a while.  Today's post is not funny in a ha-ha sort of way.  Rather, it is more funny in a isn't-this-a-sad-world-we-live-in sort of way. 

It started when I opened up CCN.com today and saw an article about the deplorable conditions Dr. Conrad Murray is being subjected to while in jail.  If you recall, this is the man who was found guilty of involuntary manslaughter in the overdose death of Michael Jackson.  He has been in a 5X7 jail cell since November of 2011.

What made me laugh, and then cry, were the quotes from his attorney, Michael Flanagan.  Taken directly from the CCN website, here are a few zingers:

"If one were to keep a dog in a space just a few inches larger than the dog's length, for any extended period of time, contentions of animal cruelty possibly leading to prosecution would likely result," attorney Michael Flanagan wrote.

"Death or injury at the hands of another prisoner, however, is no worse than a slow death caused by a loss of circulation and atrophy resulting from inhumane confinement of a large man in a tiny space," attorney Michael Flanagan wrote in a letter addressed to Los Angeles County Sheriff Lee Baca Wednesday.

I honestly am having a hard time figuring out where to begin with my thoughts on this article and on the quotes by this ignorant attorney. 

First off, the conditions of breeding dogs living in a puppy mill are those described above, and much worse.  They are forced to drink out of rabbit feeders, rather than a bowl.  They usually walk on grated wire cages bottom rather than a solid floor.  They are denied access to veterinary care, and it is all within USDA quidelines. 

The following link gives guidelines for the required cage size as specified by USDA regulations:

http://www.animalarkshelter.org/animal/ShelterLife.nsf/CageSizeCalculator?OpenForm

Here is what "home" looks like to a breeding dog (borrowed from Animal Ark Shelter web site):

Basically, a dog gets an extra six inches over and above its body length to turn around, and six inches of room above its head.  This well-educated attorney seriously thinks that it is illegal to have a dog in a cage jus a few inches larger than its body?  I don't know which is sadder; the fact that this practice actually happens all over our country, or the fact that well-educated people still don't know that it is happening.

What do you think this does to a dog's body and mind?  A "slow death" from the above quote?  Yes, that and more.  Some of these dogs, even after they are rescued, never get to experience a normal dog life.  Some of them have muscles so weak that they never learn to run.  It's appalling.

Please remember also that Dr. Conrad Murray is being punished for a crime.  All these poor dogs did was to be born.  Please, let's educate the public about puppy mills.  Obviously the word is not out there enough if an article like this gets published on a worldwide website and no one is screaming about it. 

And, please, I implore you ADOPT, DON'T SHOP.  Every time someone buys a puppy from a pet store, this situation lives on.  Please, don't allow people to profit from cruelty.  Let's put an end to puppy mills forever.  More importantly, let's invest more resources, both time and money, to help the innocent and not the guilty. 

Please get involved.  There are great rescues out there doing their best to stop this atrocity.  One of my favorites is National Mill Dog Rescue.  Here is a link to their website:  www.milldogrescue.org/

There is also the place near and dear to my heart, North Shore Animal League America: www.animalleague.org  I have been volunteering there since 1998.  They are the world's largest no-kill shelter and are dedicated to saving animals.

Please help make this world a better place.  I know we can do it.

~Tammy

The saga of the stolen iphone

This past Sunday, Craig, Mackenzie and I were spending the day like so many other Sundays. We went to visit family in the AM, were going to hit Target in the afternoon and then off for a long overdue play date with Adrianna.

2:00 PM - We arrive at Target (the great retail wonderland) and agree that we need to get in and out in under an hour. For my family, that is a feat indeed. Each department offers an assortment of items that we never needed until we set eyes on them. We replenished school supplies, bought some much-needed undergarments for my weed, um I mean 6 year old. We typically browse the entire store aisle by aisle as we discover all of the opportunities to fill up the trunk.

2:30 - We are running out of time and need to hurry. Our play date is schedule for 4:00 in order for the kids to have their fun before we have to feed them dinner and do the usual Sunday night routine.

2:58 - Time to meet up, get serious, and get through the food aisles. Craig calls my iphone, Kenzie answers, and we meet up right near the Boots cosmetic display. The call is short, and we agree that they are going to pick out some ice cream while I go through the ladies clothing department to find more treasures that I won't be able to pass up. It is here that Kenzie has her ADD moment and makes the crucial mistake.

2:59 - Kenzie sees a display of help-yourself body butters, complete with an inviting spoon to use with it. She puts the phone down and tries some body butter. Daddy calls her to get ice cream and she runs off.

3:07 - Now we really need to get going. We all meet up again, and I ask Craig for my phone back. He looks at me like I am crazy. We both look at Mackenzie and ask her where she put my phone. In the next ten minutes, the answers go from "I gave it to Mommy" to "I gave it to Daddy" to "I put it in the shopping cart." After checking my pocketbook four times, Craig's pockets three times and emptying the shopping cart twice, we realize we need to look elsewhere. First, I go to customer service, where the useless clerks offer me a scrap of paper to write down Craig's number in the event that the phone turns up.

3:15 - Craig is in full blown ADD mode, and he can't remember what happened in what order and is proposing all sorts of crazy scenarios about where the phone can be. He checks the ice cream freezers, the shelves, the floors, and his pockets again.

3:30 - I go to customer service again. They can't understand why I might want to offer them my home number and my last name. I go back to the Boots cosmetic department. I am convinced that this is where she left the phone, and I stand there crying, hoping my phone will magically reappear. Why am I crying? Because the last and the only good pictures we had of Emma were on that phone. So were some pictures of our vacation to Disney. I was sobbing over the thought of losing our memories.

4:00 - Craig finally convinces me to leave my post and leave the store. He pays for the merchandise while I run around the entire parking lot in 9 degree weather, completely without any operable brains. I couldn't find the car, and I was mourning the loss of Emma's pictures. Poor Mackenzie asks me "Mommy, am I grounded?" And, oh, we weren't wearing coats. I don't know why.

On the way home, we stop at the AT&T store to replace the phone, when one of us suggests that we ask Target to check the surveillance video. Lo and behold, they call back an hour later and tell us that they got the whole thing on video and they see that the phone was taken by a female. We had the police come over that evening. Despite the video, they tell us not to get our hopes up. I am getting used to the fact that I have lost my Emma pictures. Let's not forget that the police officer also very helpfully advised me to "keep my phone on my person at all times." Duh. Great idea.

Monday morning, I got to work early and decided to do some sleuthing. I found a cracked iphone for sale in Suffolk County and convinced Craig that it was mine. He went back and forth under an assumed name with the seller all morning, and we decided that THIS IS IT. He set up a sting with the police. I Google the kid he is going to "buy" the phone from, I decide the kid is a punk, and I can't wait to have my justice. The police were great and involved, and they surrounded the kid in a parking lot to have him arrested. Only, it isn't my phone. I felt so AWFUL. Poor kid. I think we traumatized him.

At least now, however, the police know we mean business. They went back to the surveillance videos and found that the idiot, I mean girl, went to a checkout counter after stealing my phone and made a purchase by credit card. Now, we've got her. They go to her house, leave a message with her Dad and finally this morning, she calls back. She admits to having the phone, but insists she found it and had every intention of giving it back.

Yeah right. She walked past customer service, past security, out of the store, took out the SIM card, removed the cover, and deleted all of the data stored in the phone. She did not answer any of our calls, didn't think to text or call any of the contacts in the phone. But, she was going to return it.

So, the police retrieved the phone, met up with Craig to give it to him, and are going to press charges against the girl. I still don't have my pictures of dear sweet Emma. I still lost family photos, and I lost a bunch of contacts.

I am going to channel my anger in doing my best to get this girl to see that her actions hurt others. I can only hope that I raise my child to be better than that. I am so sad about what it says about today's youth. According to the surveillance video, it was exactly three minutes between the time the phone was put down and the phone was stolen. How can it be worth the risks to do something so foolish? And, how could she look a police officer in the eyes and lie? I am so sad over this whole thing.

But, on the other hand, I am so incredibly impressed with the police officers who helped get my phone back. I am thrilled and even shocked at the level of cooperation by Target's security department. And, my husband, most of all, put so much effort into this over the past few days. He is my hero and I love him up to the sky.

Emma, we will always miss you. I wish I had more pictures of you, but we had almost ten years of memories. We love you.

And, to the police and to Target, thank you. You far exceeded my expectations, and I couldn't have asked for more.

And, to Mackenzie, you are not grounded. You got your ADD from your dear, sweet Dad. I love you both.

Puppy Mills....................Helping the Helpless

I went to the shelter today to volunteer with some dogs from the most recent puppy mill rescue. I've been volunteering for 12 years and thought that I was immune to heartbreak. I try and focus on the positive and keep my chin up knowing that any animal that enters through our doors is at least guaranteed to have a happy life from here on out. However, today brought on emotions that are new to me, and I just need to share. Let me explain.

When you go to a pet store, dear reader and friend, you see a beautiful, seemingly healthy, well groomed puppy. What you don't see is the mommy and the daddy who are left behind at the mill. You don't see the abuse that goes on in order to get that puppy in the store that you are just dying to take home. Well, I've seen it. This is the third puppy mill rescue I was involved in, and it was by far the worst.

The momma is so matted that she can't even see in front of her. But, it doesn't really matter does it? Because there's not much for her to look at from her little 2X2 cage that she spends her life in. She has what we call cage paws, where her little toes look unnaturally separated and flat footed from walking on wire mesh day in and day out. Her teats are swollen and hang down permanently from her sad little belly. Her fur is stained from the iron in her saliva. She compulsively licks herself as a result of no other stimulation and boredom. Her teeth are rotted if she has any left. Who really cares about her teeth? They are not necessary for the production of puppies. In fact, it might be better if she has no teeth so that she cannot fight the male's advances when it is time to mate her again. Her one and only purpose in life is to produce puppies. And, it is something she will do time and time again.

You see, puppy mills are nothing but money machines. And it doesn't really help the profit margins to take any better care of the parents. Why care for the teeth or get them groomed or do anything else that will affect the bottom line? As long as they can get puppies to the store and generate top dollar for the smallest investment, then the puppy mill owner considers it a success.

When they are done with the momma and daddy dogs, they are either auctioned off, or taken out back and either shot, strangled, or disposed of in some other way.

The organization that I am fortunate enough to be involved with cares enough to do something about it. They are going to these auctions and buying the old, used up dogs. They are transporting them cross country to give them the medical care and the socialization necessary to help them be a household pet and live out the rest of their days with dignity in a warm home with love and attention.

Tonight, I met Mac the gorgeous brindle boxer. He is the mushiest, sweetest boxer ever. I found out that the shelter won him at auction for $1.00. What would his fate have been in someone else's hands? What kinds of people go to these auctions, and what could his fate have been? Bait for dog fights? A lab test animal? I can't even imagine. He was better on a leash than my 15 lb. nothing of a dog. His teats were so swollen and hung down so far (yes, on a boy), that I can't imagine what he might have been through to make them that way. He has a terrible case of cherry eye and is being treated for other minor conditions. He wants to be loved. While in the dog run with a chance finally to run like a normal dog, he just wanted to climb in my lap and be petted. When I look at him pleading to me with his eyes, I try and imagine what his life may have been like. Had he ever felt grass before? Had he ever slept on a soft bed?

Then there was the schnauzer whom I couldn't even touch. He is so terrified that he trembles all the time, and can't bear to be touched by a human. I took him outside for a few minutes in the hopes that he might approach me if I left him alone and gave him time to calm down. With every single noise he heard, he jumped. I thought he was going to have a heart attack right there. If he could have blended in with the walls, he would have. All he could do is scratch to get back in what he felt was his safe place - the cage. And even there he trembled with fear. What was his life like to make him so incredibly fearful? Was he beaten, tormented? Will he ever trust? Is there any way that the rest of his life can be peaceful and happy?

Some of the dogs are so fearful of humans that they have bitten the caretakers at the shelter. The ones who bite out of fear will take the longest to socialize and prepare for a life in a home with a family. They are by far the saddest. My heart breaks for them and yet, there is so little I can do to help. I can clean up their poo and give them fresh food and water. I can sit close by and hopefully help them get used to people being closer to them. When a 6 or 7 year old dog finds itself uprooted from everything it has ever known and told that it has a new identity and a new role in life, how quickly should it fall into place for them? And, how to we prevent this in the future? Well, the answer to the last question is obvious:

DO NOT BUY PUPPIES FROM PUPPY STORES. DO NOT SUPPORT PUPPY MILLS. DONATE TO YOUR LOCAL ANIMAL SHELTER SO THEY CAN KEEP FIGHTING THE GOOD FIGHT AGAINST PUPPY MILLS.

Please, I implore you. I know how adorable that puppy is in the puppy store window. But, think about the things you are not seeing that bring that puppy to the store. And, think about how you are perpetuating the situation when you buy a puppy store puppy. Please, don't do it. Find a reputable breeder or visit your local animal shelter. It is my most sincere hope that someday we will no longer have to do these puppy mill rescues. They break my heart.

Kenzie's first visit from the tooth fairy

Mackenzie lost her first tooth about a week and a half ago. I am having an awful time trying to upload pictures of our adventure. She ended up puling the tooth out herself. She was so very brave, and we were so very proud.

We promptly called just about everyone on the short list. Kenzie was so excited, and wanted to tell just about everyone.

That night, we carefully wrapped up her tooth in tissue and put it in a special box underneath her pillow.

The next morning, she woke up to find a note from the Tooth Fairy, some money in her box and a sweet little teddy bear. Our little girl isn't so little anymore.

A few days later, she yanked another tooth out of her mouth, bringing in the tooth fairy again.

I just love how her mind works. I don't recall being all that inquisitive about the Tooth Fairy when I was a child. Kenzie wanted to know how the Tooth Fairy got in our house, and why did she bring a stuffed animal. Her Daddy and I were at a loss for answers as we don't really know ourselves. What we do know is that our precious little angel is not a baby anymore, and we are so proud of the little girl she is growing to be.

Let me introduce myself

Hi. My name is Tammy. The last name is complicated. At work it is Dreher, with my kids it is Cooper. But, Smelly-Go-Name Tammy Dreher-Cooper. The Smelly part comes from my wacky husband, Craig. You see, when we had our daughter, the nurse asked me what my name was for the Birth Certificate. I replied "Tammy Dreher-Cooper." Craig said are you sure? Yes, I said. It is my legal name. But, somehow he heard 'Smelly-Go-Name' instead.

To go back a little farther in time and explain why it is hyphenated, we married in 2001. By then, I was 33 years old, and had lost my dad to cancer in 1999. When faced with the idea of changing my name to Cooper, there was a part of me that just couldn't bear to let go to my dad's name. So, I hyphenated the two, and I interchange them to suit different circumstances. Yep, I know I am weird.

Anyways, to get back to introductions, I am married to a wonderful man, Craig. We met in 1999, and fell in love so fast and so hard, there was no stopping us. He had two beautiful daughters already when we met. Lauren was 14, Lindsay, 10. About a month after we met, they lost their mom suddenly. Though I never tried to take her place, I have always been thrilled to try and fill some of the void that they felt after her passing. I don't think any of us will ever be completely over losing their mom, but we have been able to create a beautiful family for ourselves that always includes memories of their mom. They are now 20 & 24. Lauren has her own apartment, and Lindsay lives on campus up at college. So, the noise level is not what it used to be. But, the chaos never stops!

In 2004, we welcomed our daughter, Mackenzie Ellen, into the world. She will be 6 very soon. She is growing up so fast. We are blessed. Truly blessed.

We also have a menagerie of pets. We have two dogs. Little Guy, or LG, is going to be 15 this year in May. He is a rat terrier. Emma, our adopted wire haired fox terrier will be 14 sometime this Spring. The dogs are frequently known as Dumb and Dumber - only we can't tell which is which. We have two cats. Samantha is all black, and she is 12 years old. Maxine is our polydactyl tuxedo - she is 11. Then there is Cooper the bunny. We call him the largest indoor rabbit ever, he is HUGE. We also have two parakeets. Their names have never stuck, so we will call them "the girls." We also have a large fish tank with tropical fish, and we have an outdoor pond with the world's most resilient and possibly the oldest feeder goldfish ever. They are as big as a small guinea pig, and we have become very attached to them. At times, we also have baby quail, when we hatch the eggs and help raise the babies.

We live on a quiet culdesac in Smithtown, NY. Well, it was quiet until we moved in.

More to come later.....