From Auction to Rescue

The exact history of Annie prior to her rescue from the Washington Basset Rescue, may never be known. But what is known is that she was a three year old lemon (white with tan markings) female basset hound. She was found at a dog auction. This is a place where people who breed dogs go to sell them off. In her case, and those of her companions on that day, she had herniated, others had herniated or had mastitis of the breasts. All as a result of continuous breeding.  Incidentally, the spaying of a female dog reduces the risk of this form of cancer by 50%. So, continuous breeding in effect increases the potential. The places where they are held are referred to as puppy mills. At the dog auction, she would be sold of for medical research. her usefulness to this world was finished in the eyes of the breeder. She could no longer breed and the expense of having her medically treated was cost prohibitive, against the revenue she could generate producing those cute little basset puppies, you see in the pet shop windows around the world and pay significant big bucks for the purebreds. But she still had some revenue in her, by being auctioned off and then sent to a lab to be used as a test animal.
The puppy mill operators have but one objective and that is to make money.

So with a collar made of chain and a metal numbered tag, she found herself transported through the generosity of many volunteers to the Washington Basset rescue organization in Spokane Washington, USA.

Collars and Tags of the rescued bassets

Her exposure to any form of physical handling had been anything but loving and she had a non-socialized fear of people. There are many excellent web sites to see the conditions a puppy mill dog lives in, and the effects of the types of behaviour you can expect if you happen to find yourself living with one who has been rescued or sold off. She and her rescued mates were under the kind and caring responsibility of Pat Bernstien, where she stayed for three months. Eventually, she found herself placed on the web page for adoptions.
 http://www.wabr.net/rescue/happyhomes2009/lady/lady.htm

We had been blessed to have had one basset named Molly, who lived with us for 10 years before she passed away. We had been so taken by her and her mannerisms and breed quirks, that we fell in love with the basset hound. Over time through rescue organizations, we came to have Beuford and Maggie join us. So we had become a fan of bassets. In the fall of 2008 our family of dogs had diminished to 2 and the house just felt empty after so many years with a houseful, and so one night as I surfed the internet, I came across WABR and the adoption page.http://www.wabr.net/ . And so began a discussion at home about getting more rescue dogs. At the time, Annie was named Lady and something in her photo just reached out to me, unlike any of the just as deserving faces looking out for a forever home. And so began a series of emails between Pat and I over the basset Lady. I filled out the adoption form and we had by then decided that perhaps I should bring back 2, as the shelter was full to capacity and we certainly had the room and the experience. And so on a sunny January morning I began the 8 hour drive to Spokane, with a mid-point stop over in Seattle. The highway to Spokane from Seattle is long and goes through some mountain passes. I have never been a big fan of driving in the snow on the west coast, as it tends to pack into ice the moment you drive over it. And despite the wonderful warm sunny day drive to Seattle and the bright morning, I soon found myself driving over the cascade mountains and true to form the summits had plenty of snow to keep me alert. Eventually you weave through the valleys and across the plains and back into mountains again, with sometimes nothing to keep you occupied except to sing to yourself. I had not packed any CD's and the radio signals, even with the satellite radio were non existent in many parts.

By early afternoon, I found myself at Pats house, otherwise known as WABR. As I exited the car, I could clearly hear the muffled baying of bassets. It is a sound that is unique and any basset hound lover can detect it even in the most chaotic scene. Pat came to greet me and welcomed me to her home. We passed through a neatly kept place, that had an accumulation of basset themed pillows, pictures, coffee mugs, ceramics and door stops.  This was truly a basset lover's home.