Dog whisperer

Goldie locked the front door to the animal shelter, turning over the closed sign. An emergency phone number was stenciled on the window in case anyone needed help with an abandoned or injured animal.

She had been running the shelter for 15 years, and was proud to say the center staff had rescued an estimated 5,000 dogs and cats, a few dozen ferrets and at least another dozen rabbits. Goldie was prouder still that each one had been placed in a loving home.

The Shelter was a non-profit. It survived on donations and a small annual contribution from the county. In return, Goldie and her staff were acting animal control, humanely trapping stray dogs and feral cats.

One of her staffers also made pet collars from used car seat belt webbing and gave the net profit to the shelter. With those funds, Goldie went to local flea markets and road side stands to purchase puppy mill dogs. Each weekend she would make her rounds and my Monday, depending on how many collars they sold, she would bring in five or more puppies.

Several local veterinarians volunteered their services for health checks on all rescued animals Goldie brought in and offered discounts to new pet owners for second rounds of shots, and spaying or neutering.

Janice, who had worked at the shelter almost as long as Goldie, was checking sells for collars for the week.

“Looks like you have about $200 from the collars, and another $100 in donations,” Janice said as she put the cash into a pouch. She was sitting at the shelter counter, counting out the donation jar and receipts. One of the bills she put in the pouch came from a little girl, buying a collar for her new puppy. The Tooth Fairy had left the dollar, that was rimmed in red ink, under her pillow. Remembering how excited the little girl was, made Janice smile.

Goldie was straightening items on the shelves, lining up food cans, bags of kibble, and shampoos.

“Did you still want to come with me in the morning?” Goldie had started sweeping the floors as Janice finished closing out the cash register.

“Of course, it’s always easier with two of us.”

After the women completed their work in the front of the shelter, they headed toward the kennel to feed and play with the animals their were housing. They had placed five dogs and three cats that day, a good number for a Friday.

Saturdays were busy for Goldie, making her puppy rounds before noon, then processing all the dogs she brings to the shelter.

When Goldie took over the shelter, she did in on the condition that it be converted o a no-kill facility. She knew that if the mill breeders couldn’t sell their puppies, they would kill them. Buying as many as she could was the only way she could save them.

While Janice set out fresh bowls of water and food, Goldie cleaned out the now empty kennels, making room for the new arrivals she was sure to be bringing in the next day.
Once they are all fed, and their runs cleaned and sprayed down, Janice and Goldie spent the next two hours simply playing with the puppies, and kittens.

“I’ll meet you here in the morning, around 7,” Janice said as they walked to their cars behind the shelter. “I’ll bring coffee.”

“That sounds like a deal, I’ll have donuts,” Goldie countered. “We’ll take the van, before we leave I’ll remove the shelter door magnets. Mill breeders tend to get testy If they find out we’re there to rescue the puppies. I don’t see why they even care, they still get their money.”

“I think it’s because they know what they’re doing is wrong,” Janice said. “I so want to ay something to them, but I know I can’t.”

The two women waved good-bye to each other as they left the parking lot, excited about their rescue mission in the morning.

—

“That coffee smells wonderful,” Goldie accepted the steaming cup from Janice as the two women loaded the shelter van with puppy kennels. The back of the vehicle could hold ten small carriers and two larger ones. Goldie took the adult cages in case she found an older dog that needed rescuing too.

It was just beginning to get light as they pulled out of the parking lot. The flea market Goldie was headed to in Richmond County was known for having vendors selling puppies and kittens. She liked to use the shelter donation funds, since the money was usually smaller bills. There was less suspicion than if she paid for puppies with $20 or $100 bills.

Goldie handed Janice an envelop with her portion of the money. They typically worked separately, taking turns hunting for puppies and staying in the van with the dogs. They could give the animals a quick check, then give them fresh water and a little food.

Janice also brought her small point-and-shoot camera in case the women wanted to document dangerous conditions to animal control. Goldie made it her mission to build a good partnership with the other agencies in neighboring counties. During her tenure her shelter, she had been instrumental in closing down six puppy mills. That as the major reason she kept moving around to different venues, trying to be as unobtrusive as she could. Sometimes Janice would join her, sometimes any one of the other ten shelter volunteers. They all were dedicated to ending the cruel practice.


Goldie parked the van away from the flea market building, finding a space that offered some shade from the surrounding trees. Opening the back of the van, she opened the carrier doors getting ready for the puppies.

Their routine was for one of the women to go into the huge barn-like building first tyo scout out the vendors. Taking photos with cell phones of the most likely mill breakers. Some vendors were just families trying to sell off surprise litters, and not from over bred bitches. Once their reconnaissance was complete they would begin making the rounds, taking turns, visiting different aisles and booths. They tended to pick the runts of the litter, knowing they were less likely to be picked by other buyers.

It took Janice nearly 30 minutes to make her first pass. This morning there were only four vendors selling puppies. Not only it would make it easier to avoid being seen together, but they could both rescue at least eight puppies. Only one vendor appeared to be a mill breeder, offering about 14 puppies of differing breeds. The seller also claimed to have AKC documentation, which provided pedigree information.

Goldie would challenge that, pointing out that legitimate breeders wouldn’t be selling show worthy dogs at such an arm-pit flea market. She would talk the seller down on her price and walk away with the rescue she wanted. If Goldie had her way, she would buy all of dogs, but had to focus on the ones she could save.

Janice returned with her last puppy, giving Goldie a high five for luck as he made her way back into the barn. While walking to the building, Goldie checked how much cash she still had, nodding ascent when she saw that there was at least $50 left in her stash, including an odd one dollar bill stamped with red ink along the edge.

She slowly ambled to the booth at the middle of the last aisle in the market. Janiec had stopped there first when she arrived. She bought a small male puppy, clearly the runt, but adorable and lively. As Goldie stepped up to look over the remaining dogs, she saw only two – a female lying in the corner of the make-shift corral asleep, and a male chewing on a rubber ball near the front of the booth.

The woman at the booth, had an almost feral look about her. She appeared to be in her early 20s, but she also looked exhausted. Overly thin, with short fine hair, the dark circles under her eyes could have been bruises they were so black. Goldie wondered if maybe they were bruises when she saw signs of fading injuries on her arms. Clearly hand marks where someone had held on to her with too much force.

This was the booth Janice felt sure was covering for a puppy mill, there wre too may different sort of dogs being offered. They weren’t from the same litter, that was obvious. Goldie understood why she thought that, but her suspicious were far worse. There was definitely wrong here, but wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out what or just buy the last two puppies.

“You only have the two left,” Goldie asked, as nonchalantly as she could.

The young woman, her arms folded over her chest, looked around furtively, looking more scared than the puppies she was selling.

“Just these left, I’ll make you a deal if you want to take them both.”

The girl, uncrossed her arms, tucking her hands into her back jeans pockets. She stepped toward Goldie, closing the gap between them.

“Please lady, I have to get rid of these dogs, I’ll give them both to you for what I’m asking for one.”

Looking around, ad seeing they were out of ear shot of the nearest person, Goldie closed the gap even further.

“Are you all right? Is there something I can do to help you?”

“Please lady, I just need the money and to get rid of the dogs, that’s all I can tell you.”

With the girl so close, Goldie could now see that the dark circles were heavily covered in makeup in an attempt to conceal her black eyes. The bruises on her arm, in varying stages of healing. She had the remnants of other injuries on her neck and face.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll take both puppies, at full price, but I need help getting them to my car. Can you do that?”

Goldie stared at the girl until she looked up, seeing that Goldie was pleading with her to leave with her. The younger woman took a deep, shudder breath, and looked around one last time. Goldie handed her the lasts of her rescue funds, including the odd dollar with red ink lining the edge.

Gathering her jacket and bag, the girl grabbed the box she was storing her puppy sale money in and tucked that into her bag. Picking up the sleeping female, she handed her to Goldie, then scooped up the last male puppy.

“My car is parked out at the edge of the lot, under the trees. You don’t mind, you do.”

Not speaking, the girl nodded and followed Goldie out to the van. When they got close, Goldie called out to Janice who stepped out of the back of the vehicle. The girl almost dropped the puppy she was holding, but Goldie put out a hand and steadied her.

“It’s okay, we’re friends. I think we can help you. Don’t be afraid.”

After loading the last two dogs into kennels, Goldie had let the girl sit in the back of the van. Janice climbed back into the front passenger seat, handing the girl a bottle of water too, trying to win her trust.

“What’s your name?”

“Elise.”

Goldie was turned around in the driver’s seat, so she could see both Janice and Eleise.

“I want you to know that you can trust us. We only want to help you.”

Elise turned slightly to look at the full kennels in the back of the van.

“What is all this? What are you doing with all this puppies.?

Elise’s voice cracked. When she turned back toward Goldie there were tears in her eyes.

“I run a rescue shelter in Monroe. I got to local flea markets to find dogs and cats that need to be saved. We take them back to the shelter, have them check out by a vet, and find good home to adopt them out to.”

Goldie nodded toward Janice while she explained their mission.

Elise let out another long, deep sigh, then smiled for the first time.

“Can you help rescue me too? I need a good home.”

The young woman told Goldie about her attempt to escape an abusive boyfriend. A man who trained fighting dogs. She had stolen the puppies from him, to save them the fate of being used as bait for the fighters. She hoped to also make enough money to help make enough money to buy a bus ticket to somewhere far away.

“He probably knows by now that I left with the puppies, but he don’t know which way to went. I don’t know how far behind me he is, but I got to get away. He’ll kille me if he finds me.”

“How did you get here with the puppies,” Goldie asked, barely able to contain her anger.

“I asked the only friend I have who I know won’t tell him where I am. She and me worked at the same diner. She knows the market manager and he left me have a booth for free.”

“Will your boyfriend go after her?”

“I don’t think so. He don’t know we’re friends. He told me I couldn’t make no friends at work, but he wanted the money I made at the diner.”

Goldie started the van, looking over at Janice, the other woman smiled.

“We do take in strays and find them better homes.”

“Call Warren at the station, tell him we need to meet with him today.”

During the drive back to the shelter, Elise told the two older women about her young life, and the bad decisions she had made that led to her flight now. How her boyfriend promised to take her away from what she thought was a bad home life, when all she really didn’t like about it was her parents insistence that she follow house rules.

Once she left with him, he isolated her from old friends and her parents, making her completely dependent on him. It wasn’t until he began training dogs to fight and whipping them into a bloody, feeding frenzy with puppies, did she know she had to leave.

She could rationalize his physical abuse against her, but his cruelty to helpless animals was too much, even for her. She had taken several pictures with her cellphone, having turned it off so he couldn’t call her. The photo evidence was clear proof of the dog fighting and puppy baiting. She just wasn’t sure how best to use it. Goldie told her she knew exactly what to do with it, and for her not to worry any longer. She would do every thing she could to help her.

“It’s horrible to watch, it made me sick to my stomach,” Elise handed her phone to Janice.

Before they reached home, Elise fell asleep in the van, overcome by the stress of the day. Janice took the chance to call Warren, their local sheriff. She filled him in on what was going on and that he might want to contact his counterpart in Richmond County.

By the time they arrived at the Monroe Sheriff’s Department, Warren was geared up along with several of his deputies. While Elise stayed in the van, Warren talked with her, gently assuring her that she would be protected.

Janice handed Warren the phone, who then gave it to his IT officer to download to the Richmond Sheriff. Watching the footage while it loaded, Warren could only shake his head at the brutality Elise captured.

Before Goldie left, Warren introduced Elise to his victim’s advocate. The young woman would be taken to a women’s shelter and helped to return to her family. When she tried to give Goldie back the money she was paid for the last two puppies, the older woman told her to keep it, she felt like it was money well spent. Reaching back into the van Goldie got one of her business cards, and wrote her private cell number on the back.

“When you get back to your mom and dad, call me, let e know how you’re doing.”

Elise hugged her, whispering in her ear, “you saved more than two puppies today, thank you!”