poetry
Much of the poetry on this web site is authored by Shannon McClure. She knows firsthand about the torture puppy mill dogs endure. These poems tell the truth in a very Irish fashion.
Shannon is responsible, in many ways, for getting us into the world of mill dog rescue. She is the foremost rescuer of Italian Greyhounds and an inspiration to all true rescuers. Read on and learn the facts of puppy mill life.
Much of the poetry on this web site is authored by Shannon McClure. She knows firsthand about the torture puppy mill dogs endure. These poems tell the truth in a very Irish fashion.
Shannon is responsible, in many ways, for getting us into the world of mill dog rescue. She is the foremost rescuer of Italian Greyhounds and an inspiration to all true rescuers. Read on and learn the facts of puppy mill life.
Mama Killed My Brother Today
Shannon McClure
Copyright© 1999
Copyright© 1999
Mama killed my brother today.
All he wanted to do was play.
He bit her ear - he didn't know it was
frostbitten from last night's snow.
She was eight months old when we were born
In an old wire cage at the puppy farm.
In pain and scared, in the dark and alone,
Mama gave us our lives and made us a home.
She cleaned each one up and chewed through the cords,
And she layed on the wire so we'd stay on the boards.
She moved us around so we'd all get some milk.
I thought Mama's belly felt just like silk.
She stayed up nights from the time we arrived.
And nosed us and licked us to keep us alive.
She grew weak and thin but she made no fuss,
And she managed to save all eight of us.
But all mamas need some place to go
When little puppies start to grow.
Their razor teeth and needle nails
Turn 3 x 4 cages into jails.
An hour of rest and a little sun -
If she'd just had some space to run….
Or a place for us to tumble and play
For at least a little part of each day.
I wish she could have walked in the yard,
So her life would not have been so hard.
But our Mama, who'd been so sweet and kind,
Was slowly starting to lose her mind.
Then last night the big snow came down
It piled up some places two feet on the ground.
The wind blew it on us, with no place to hide.
But bless our poor mama, she tried and she tried.
She snapped when he bit her - her ear was so sore.
Not meaning to hurt him, just tell him "No more!"
He was caught in the ribcage and punctured a lung.
Brother died on her belly, right where he'd begun.
She's nosing him now but he cannot stir.
And all we can do is look at her.
She started to cry and has howled all day,
Still nobody's come to take him away.
I was scared to see my brother die,
But more scared to hear my Mama cry.
And just now the big truck's come rolling in
To take some more pups from the pens again.
They had them all loaded when he looked in at us.
He just shook his head and went back for a box.
All he left in our cage was brother and Mama.
"They're four weeks old. Go on and load 'em."
Our eyes got big but we didn't cry.
"Mama, are we going to die?"
We're rolling now but we don't know to where.
PLEASE GOD, help our Mama - she has to stay there.
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