Escaping the Puppy Traffickers

Sketch of puppy writing about his traumatic ordeal.

My name is Toby.  I am a Cairn terrier.  This is a true story of what happened to me in my own words.

Drawing of puppy sleeping near a window with cloudy skies outside. Inside, his bowl is empty.

Today started out like so many others – with cloudy skies and not enough grub.  But wait, today isn’t the same.  Mom’s purse and keys are out.   Maybe today won’t suck after all.

Drawing of a purse and keys

I had to wait interminable months for afternoon to roll around before we began our trip.   I bounced around on the passenger seat looking out the windows for familiar landmarks.  “Where are we going?” I kept asking.  I should have known something was wrong when she would not answer.  She avoided looking at me and stared straight ahead.

Frightened puppy is pulled from his mother by a masked and gloved figiure. Mom turns her head away.

Finally we pulled into an empty lot.  A shadowy figure in a Hazmat suit glided over.  Mom rolled down the window and shoved me toward this earthbound alien.  “Mommy!  Mommy!”  I cried as I reached for her, but she refused to make eye contact and turned her head away.

Little puppy being stripped of his sweater by a vet tech.

After taking me inside of their disinfectant-scented lair, the latex-clad demons rubbed my fur between their fingers and declared me to be “blown”.  (Not in a long time, sister!)   They said I needed to be “stripped”.  Of what?  My dignity? Let me tell you, it’s already gone.

a naked Toby stands self-consciously.

Naked and afraid, I was carried into a laboratory and plopped onto a cold, steel table.  There they poked  and prodded and squeezed me where nothing but my girlfriend’s nose should ever go.  To distract myself I stared at the wall in front of me.

No, not that one. Get one from the freezer.

Hey, I thought they were supposed to use the ear kind!

A sign hung there declared this person to be a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine.   Under whom did she study?  Dr. Mengele?!  I was poised to snap when someone grabbed my jaws and pried them apart.  Gloved hands were rudely shoved into my mouth.  I spit and snorted, but the violation of my self continued.

Puppies in stacked kennels cry

As the masked figures stepped back to gather more torture instruments, I had a brief glimpse through the open door.  There was a wall of cages filled with frightened pups cowering against thin blankets tossed carelessly at the bottom of their wire prisons.  I realized that I was headed there too.  Abandoned by our families, we were now victims of puppy traffickers.

I have heard of such things with humans.  Unscrupulous traffickers will give their victims drugs to get them hooked so they will compliantly do what they are told.  The shadowy “doctors” came at me from both sides, each carrying a syringe big enough for a horse.  They jab me cruelly in my legs.  Quickly their toxins began to work on me.  I started to feel woozy and disoriented.

Toby after having his nails trimmed

Before I could get my bearings, they came at me with tree loppers and – aaagh!! – they cut off my legs!  Oh the pain!  The pain!  I wanted to run, but with no legs I couldn’t move.*

Sketch of little dog being picked up by his collar

The lights swirled around me.  Voices grew near than faded.  I heard a piece of paper being torn and felt a sharp pain in my hind end.  Unceremoniously I was shoved through the front door.  Alone on the cold concrete, I turned and found a yellow note with the word “FAT” scribbled on it stapled to my butt.  Toby with a "Fat" sign stapled t ohis butt.


I can only conclude that the extra biscuits I purloined are what saved me from being yet another dog on that wall of cages, waiting to be handed off to some pervert to sit in his stinking, crumb-filled lap.  Puppies, eat everything you can.  The few extra pounds you put on may render you too large for those overly fussy pupophiles and save your life.


* They trimmed Toby’s nails.


I don’t know what happened inside the vet’s office, but when the tech came outside and handed me Toby’s leash, she laughed and said, “Your dog is so funny!”. Uh oh.  I hope he hasn’t been telling stories…


In case you do like puppy stories, consider picking up a copy of Dream Our World.  Not only will your purchase help small business, it would make  perfect gift for someone stuck inside during the quarantine!

Cover of the book Dream Our WorldFamily members are still going to need birthday presents, and right now no one can get to the store.  I can conveniently deliver this book to you or your loved ones so they do not feel deprived while isolated.

Inside, Bitey and Toby visit the Museum of the Imagination and view the world of art from a canine perspective.  Since real museums are closed, this is one of the few ways to experience some culture.  (Ha ha.)




  1. Oh, my, Toby! What an adventure! 😮
    I’m so glad you got back home to your Mom!
    And how rude of them to label you “fat”…Did you tell them you are just floofy!?!?
    PATS and RUBS for you, from me! And a PAW-5 for you, from Cooper! 🙂
    PS…you made me snort-laugh…the part about your girlfriend’s nose! 😛

  2. Pingback: We Need Heroes (But Not You) | The Adventures of Bitey Dog

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