#farmdogs

This. It’s pretty simple why we do what we do. Because dog farm life is an opportunity that many kids never get. Because they get to be a part of something bigger than themselves. Because they will learn so many life lessons here that they can’t anywhere else.

This right here. For them. ❤️

Raising a fearless dog meat farm kid is not for the faint of heart. They push limits. They ask questions, like "why this one?" or "can't they live just a little bit longer?" or "I don't want to eat dogs anymore!" They test boundaries. They are stubborn. They try our patience on the daily.

But momma you were made for this. ❤️ You were made for teaching them to bottle feed a Labrador. You were made to help them discover the joy of spotting that last tiny chihuahua, hiding in the very back of the pen. You were made for slowing down and picking the perfect terrier for the kitchen table. You were made for showing them a love for animals so strong that it carries the family through the darkest times on the dog meat farm.

You were made to be a dog meat farm mom. 🐕🍖🐩🥩🐶🌭🌈🌱❤️

   Boy, I’ve always felt rather good about the lives our farm dogs live; plenty of space and room to run. Unfortunately, on Friday I had a very unpleasant phone call from my nearest neighbor. Apparently, Lady has gotten in the habit of sneaking off down there and creating trouble. Even worse, it has been going on for a while, to the point where he was FURIOUS before he called me. As he has some game cameras up in his woods, she was not as unobserved as she thought she was. I certainly can’t say it’s unreasonable for him to be upset that she’s trespassing. I wouldn’t want that, either. It’s just unfortunate that he’s so very mad, and also that she’s had a chance to make a habit of doing it. I don’t see any way to break her of it, now. We have quite a long boundary with him, sereval hundred yards, and there’s no practical way to fence it. She has literally acres to play on in every OTHER direction than south - but now I’ll have to keep her indoors or tied up unless I’m right in the yard with her. Man, once that trust is broken, it’s broken for good.

   Chance, the border collie, just lost the ability to go up and down the stairs in the house. He can still manage the porch stairs, which are wider and have more traction. He goes down to the basement to sleep on the chilly floor when it’s hot out, then gets stuck halfway up the stairs and cries at me until I go pick him up (OOOF!) and carry to the top. Poor boy.